gasp, the man saw the gun behind McGarty's back. He "reached" extending his arms to full length, and even standing on tiptoe, and the boy recognized him as Crane. There was a noise at the mouth of the crevice, and another man turned and whisked from sight, the clatter of loose rocks proclaiming his frenzied haste to be elsewhere. But he did not get far. A short, sharp word of command floated upward. Silence—and once more, the sound of footsteps. The man appeared again at the opening, only this time he, too, was reaching." It was the shaggy man, and behind him walked Sergeant Dan McKeever.
Hello, Dan!" called Connie, rising to his feet, we've got *em dead to rights! Three of 'em here—Cosgrieve and another in there, and some kegs, too—and more kegs in the poling-boat, down on Henderson's Creek! And evidence enough to include our friend Jap Kinkade along with 'em!"
Sergeant Dan McKeever gazed open-mouthed at the youngest constable.
"For the love of Mike, kid! I'm dreamin'! You—you—single-handed—rounded up the Cameron Creek gang! Got 'em with the goods, at last—Bill Cosgrieve, too! It ain't so—but it is!
