Then, as plainly as he could, he wrote the following:
“Order for two bars bullion, given to Joe McGlory by Colonel M. A. Billings, of Tucson, Arizona, stolen. If presented, hold bullion until you hear from me.
“Joe McGlory.”
Matt handed the message to his chum to read.
“That’ll do the trick,” said McGlory, “providing the gold hasn’t already been delivered. I hope that car of Tibbits’ broke down somewhere, and that he was hung up for a few hours on the road to New York. That’s our only hope, Matt.”
Before Matt could answer, the conductor came along the aisle, ushering a gray-whiskered man who was carrying a carpetbag.
“Here they are,” said the conductor to his companion, halting opposite the boys. “Do you know them?”
“Well, by hokey!” ejaculated the other, staring at the motor boys as though they were a couple of ghosts.
“Know them?” repeated the conductor.
“I’ve seen ’em, conductor,” was the reply. “Bill Hawkins, our town constable, arrested them two fellers for stealin’ an automobile, an’ they was put in the lockup not more’n an hour ago. How the nation did you fellers git out?”
That was not a time to dodge responsibility. The truth, and the whole truth, must be told.