. They raised their
rifles and trained them on the door.

Phil had slipped down from the top of the roof and joined them, making a
sizable force to greet the illegal owner of the piece of map they so
much desired.

The door was thrown open and the man dashed out, to stare in a
bewildered manner at the tree. Upon Garry's sharp order, he elevated his
hands skyward and then asked what they wanted.

"We want a certain piece of paper that you got away with a few nights
ago in an old boarding house on Canal street in Bangor," said Phil. "Out
with it!"

A cunning look crept into the man's eyes, which Garry did not fail to
detect.

"I threw it away right after I left the house, because I didn't know
what it was all about or whether it was any good," he declared.

"I don't believe you," said Garry promptly. "Dick and Phil, you keep
your guns trained on him. I'm going to slide through his pockets."

At these words, the man involuntarily looked down at his chest. Garry
noted this glance, and immediately decided that the search would not
have to go further than the two pockets in the woollen shirt the man was
wearing.

The two boys closed in on him, with their rifles-pointing directly at
his head, while Garry advanced to look through the shirt pockets. The
man looked for a moment as though he were about to resist, but the sight
of the two rifles made him use common sense.

The first pocket revealed nothing, but in the second was an old
envelope, and in this was a piece of paper which at a glance was
recognized as the missing portion of the map. With this in his hands,
Garry backed away.

"Now," he said sharply, "this belongs to us. It was given by the dying
man to our chum here. We are not going to give you in custody, for the
coroner found that the man had not died by foul play. However, if we
catch sight of you again, you will be seized and given to the
authorities, and a charge of theft of this paper from us will be lodged
against you. Now dig out of here. You have three minutes before we
shoot. Forward, march!"

"Can I get my blanket?" asked the man.

"Certainly, and anything else you have in the shack, only we'll go in
with you while you get it," answered Garry.

Sullenly the man went in and got his blanket and what tinned food there
was left, also a hand axe which he stuck in his belt. He had no weapon
other than a wicked hunting knife, and this he was allowed to keep.
Muttering threats under his breath, he