“I wish somebody would tell me,” answered McGlory. “We were going along at not more than twenty-five miles an hour when, without any warning, it buck-jumped, and stopped dead. Levitt was thrown out sideways against the tree. I missed the trees, but took the roadside on my head and shoulders, as near as I can recollect. I was dazed for a couple of minutes, and when I rounded up my wits I saw Levitt unconscious, a dozen feet from where I was lying. That’s all. I was trying to tinker him up when you came along. Where did you pick up the car?” “A little way back on the road. It was on the reverse, and moving slowly.” “How did it get on the reverse?” “I don’t know.” “Nor I. Sufferin’ brain twisters! The same thing happened on the Jericho Pike this morning, you remember.” Matt was silent. Before either he or the cowboy could speak Levitt began to talk. “Play the game, Billings! If you’re going to hocus the syndicate, you’ve got to pay me money enough to make it worth while. A quarter of the proceeds, Billings, or I give Random & Griggs my private report. That will cook your goose.” McGlory gasped. “He’s delirious,” said Matt. “He--he thinks he’s talking with Billings,” said McGlory. “Speak to me about that!” “It’s just as I told you, Joe,” went on Matt quietly. “Your colonel is out to make a big winning, and to make it dishonestly. If he----” Levitt began again. “You didn’t know I had that private report, did you?” A weird laugh came with the words. “I’m a bit foxy myself, colonel. The ‘Pauper’s Dream’ isn’t worth what it cost to put down the shaft. You haven’t any vein. There was a pocket, but the pocket has been worked out. You’ve got to come across with a pile if you make me suppress that private report.” “I’m the biggest blockhead that walks the face o’ the earth!” declared McGlory. “I----” Levitt interrupted him. “Keep your eye on Matt King, Billings! If lightning hits us, that cub will be back of it!” There was something grewsome about that limp form with its bandaged head, swaying between McGlory’s unsteady knees and mumbling villainous revelations. For a while Levitt was silent, and the runabout glided through the outskirts of Hempstead and Matt inquired the way to the nearest doctor. The car continued to remain on its good behavior, and carried its passengers steadily and safely to the walk in front of the doctor’s office. Some bystanders helped carry Levitt in, and he was laid on a couch, very white and weak and continuing to mumble his delirious disclosures. “What’s the trouble with him?” inquired the doctor. “Automobile accident,” answered Matt briefly. “They’re always happening,” commented the medical man grimly. “Who is he?” “Hannibal J. Levitt. We’ll have to leave him in your care, doctor. My friend and I have got to hurry on to New York to attend a meeting at eight o’clock to-night.” The doctor, busily examining Levitt, turned up a suspicious face.