The man hoisted up on one elbow and peered at Matt with weak curiosity.
"That's your brand, is it?" he asked, with as much contempt as he was able to put into the words.
"Well, yes," replied Matt. "It's my brand, and you'd be a heap better off if it was yours."
He had been scrutinizing the man closely. He now saw that he was young, that he had blue eyes, and that he was wearing cowboy clothes. His hat, of course, was in the river.
"I'll tell you later," was the indefinite reply.
"How did you happen to be around here in that flying machine?" went on the other suspiciously.
"You'll find that out, too, at the proper time."
"I'm not, so make your mind easy on that. But I know you. You're George Hobbes, and you robbed the cowboys at the Tin Cup Ranch in a game of cards, last night. You----"
With a fierce exclamation, the youth sat up, and his right hand darted toward his hip.
"You're not going to do any shooting," said Matt. "Your gun's in the river, and you'd have been there, too, but for me. What sort of way is that to act toward the man who saved you from drowning?"
Small, and seemingly trifling, events sometimes pave the way for vital undertakings. The performance on the coteau, in which the Tin Cup men had so prominently figured, had left the _Comet_ equipped with a forty-foot riata. On the flight to the Missouri Matt had tried to untie the rope and drop it from the machine. In this he had failed--a very fortunate circumstance for the dripping young man on the bank. But for that trailing rope, Matt would never have been able to effect a rescue.
"It may be," said the young man, "that you have only pulled me out of the river to give me into the hands of the Tin Cup outfit."
"I have already told you," returned Matt, "that I have nothing to do with the Tin Cup outfit."
"Why were you chasing me in that air ship, then?"
"I wasn't chasing you. You had a guilty conscience, and if a man had been coming this way on an elephant you would have thought he was after you."
The other was silent for a space, surveying Matt furtively and, apparently, trying to guess his business.
"You knew about that work in the Tin Cup bunk house, last night," said he tentatively.
"I heard of it from a party who are out looking for George Hobbes. That is your name, is it?"