them get away."

"If they try it, they'll go to the hospital or the graveyard," replied
the western young man, significantly.

"The satchel ain't in the tree," growled Caven, but his tone lacked
positiveness.

"I'll soon know for certain," said our hero.

He climbed the tree with ease, having been used to such doings when
living with the old hermit. As he went from branch to branch he kept his
eyes open, and presently saw a bit of leather sticking out of a crotch.
He worked his way over and soon had the satchel in his possession.

"How are you making out?" called up Bill Badger.

"I've got it!" shouted our hero, joyfully.

"Got the papers?"

"Yes,--everything," said Joe, after a hasty examination.

"Hang the luck!" muttered Gaff Caven, much chagrined.

Our hero was soon on the ground once more. Here he examined the contents
of the satchel with care. Everything was there, and, locking the bag, he
slung the strap over his shoulder.

"Now, what's the next move?" queried Bill Badger.

"We ought to have these men locked up. How far is it to the nearest
town?"

"Ten or twelve miles, I reckon. I don't know much about the roads."

"Why can't you let us go?" asked Malone. "You've got what you want."

"If I let you go you'll be trying to make more trouble for Mr. Vane and
myself."

"Don't talk to them," growled Caven. "If you want to lock us up, do so!"

He was in an ugly humor and ready for a fight.

"We'll march 'em along," said Bill Badger, and so it was agreed.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE FATE OF TWO EVILDOERS.

"Are you going to let them arrest us?" whispered Pat Malone, as the
whole party moved through the woods towards a wagon road which ran
nearly parallel to the railroad tracks.

"Not if I can help it," Caven whispered back. "We must watch our
chances."

Half a mile was covered and they came out on the road. It was growing
dark and there were signs of a storm in the air.

"It's going to rain," said Joe, and he was right.

"See here, I don't want to get wet to the skin," growled Caven. "I'll
catch my death of cold."

"There is a barn just ahead," said Bill Badger. "Let us get inside."

Joe was willing, and soon all were in the barn. It was now raining at a
heavy rate and they were glad to be under shelter.

"With a barn there ought to be a house," remarked our hero. "But I don't
see any."

It grew still darker, and the rain came down in perfect sheets. The roof
of the barn leaked, and