“I did. He says that if you get that car back to the city, and try to turn it over to him, he’ll have you arrested for assault with intent to do great bodily damage. He says the runabout is a powder mine, and liable to blow up at any minute. ‘Tell Matt King to keep it,’ he said, ‘providing he’s got the nerve.’ That’s the way he handed it to me. Take my advice,” Billy clamored desperately, “and leave it alone!” “Joe and I are going to use it,” answered Matt. “Hand me an end of that rope, pard,” he added to the cowboy. McGlory passed him the rope, and Matt made it secure to the front of the runabout. “Back up, Billy,” called Matt, “and tie the other end of the rope to the touring car. You’ve got to give us a lift into the road.” “What if something should happen?” demurred Billy. “Nonsense!” said Matt impatiently. “You can’t give the car back to that fellow if he won’t take it.” “We’ll make him take it. He’s a very foolish man, and he’s going to feel differently when his temper cools.” Billy, not in a very comfortable frame of mind, backed the touring car close to the edge of the bank. The rope was made fast, and Matt and McGlory went to the foot of the bank to push while the big machine pulled. The attempt was successful. The runabout sputtered--perhaps defiantly--as it yielded to the tugging and rolled up the slope. Matt looked the machine over and could not find that it had suffered any by the slide down the slope. “It’ll hang together till it gets you, Motor Matt,” observed Billy grewsomely. “That’s the way with these hoodoo cars. They never go to pieces till they kill somebody.” “You’re too good a driver, Billy, to talk such foolishness,” returned Matt. “Now, tell us how to get to the Malvern Country Club.” “Ain’t I going with you?” “Three of us couldn’t ride very comfortably in the runabout.” “But hadn’t I better go along in the touring car so as to be handy in case of accidents?” “Oh, Joe and I will get along. We’re not going to have any accidents if we can help it--and I feel pretty sure we can.” Billy laid out the course the boys were to take with considerable detail. When he was through, Matt felt that he had the route clearly fixed in his mind. “If the runabout’s too much for you,” Billy finished, “all you’ve got to do is to phone the garage, and I’ll come a-runnin’.” “Where did you get the rope?” asked Matt. Billy told him he had borrowed it at Krug’s. “We’ll leave it there,” said Matt, “on our way past the Corner.” “You may never get to Krug’s,” answered Billy, in extreme dejection. “Pile in, Joe,” said Matt, “and we’ll throw in the clutch and scoot.” McGlory, it must be admitted, climbed into the runabout in a way that proved his lack of confidence. Matt cranked up, listening with deep satisfaction to the smooth singing of the engine, and then got into the driver’s seat.