boy had slipped from its holster behind the canned goods' case.
"What ye mean?" he snarled. "An' what's the meanin' o' the gun play?"
"It means that your game is up, Brek Wiley. It means that you are under arrest for violating the game law of the Yukon Territory, and that you are caught with the goods." As the boy spoke the door opened and Shorty Peters stood staring open-mouthed at the grim tableau.
"Come on in, Shorty, and shut the door. It's cold. I've just been telling Mr. Brek Wiley that he is under arrest for poaching."
Mechanically Peters entered and closed the door still staring uncomprehendingly from one to the other.
"As I was saying," continued the boy, once more addressing Wiley: "It means that Constable Peters has taken his time and worked up an iron-clad case against you. He's got all the evidence he needs, and then some. It's about as pretty a piece of work as has been put over in B Division in a long while."
Beside the door Shorty Peters listened incredulously to the boy's words. Suddenly he
