Before they could move aside or retreat, a strange thing happened. Spofford, rushing away in obedience to Daley’s orders, fell directly over them, struggled to his feet, seized them, and with a cry of amazement and suspicion, dragged them into the flare of the torch, which had fallen among a lot of dry brush that had blazed fiercely, illuminating the vicinity plainly. “What’s this?” gasped Daley aghast. “Spies!” “No! Hold them! hold them!” shouted Daley, as Dean and Marcus endeavored to wrest themselves from Spofford’s strong grasp. “Why, one of them is--you young traitor. It’s Bob Grant.” Marcus Ellison stood condemned. Daley glared fiercely at him, then in stupefaction at his companion, so like him in dress. “Dean, now run for it.” For once, in impulsive excitement, Marcus Ellison had done two unwise things. He had counted confidently on being able to escape. He had inadvertently shouted out Dean Mercer’s real name. As he spoke he tried to trip Spofford up. The latter was too wary for him, however, and the attempt failed signally. “Dean?” repeated Rodney Darringford, coming forward and staring at the captives. “Tim, look at that boy.” Tim Downey peered sharply into the face of Dean. His suspicions aroused by Marcus’ words, he seemed to recognize him. “It’s Dean Mercer!” he gasped. “What?” cried Daley, “the boy we sent to the reform school?” “The same.” “Impossible!” “It’s him,” affirmed Tim stoutly. “My, what a get up. Say, Rodney, what does this mean, with him, of all persons, on the same trail as ourselves?” The episode of the capture of the boys acted as a complete divertisement from the quest of the hour, to the plotters. They secured both boys with ropes. They discussed their capture, the mystery of their being there, and their possible motives, in low, suspicious tones. “We’re in a bad fix, Dean,” whispered Marcus, as they lay side by side on the ground. “I fear so.” “Daley does not know which of us gave the alarm at the judges’s house at Millville, but he does know that I have played traitor to him.” “And that I would not be here if it did not mean trouble for him and his friends.” Daley was indeed, mystified and suspicious. He could not comprehend how Dean Mercer had escaped from the reform school. He talked with Tim confidentially, while he sent Spofford and Rodney to scour the cliffs for some trace of Crazy Meg. “See here, Tim,” Marcus heard him say, “what does this all mean?” “What! Those boys?” “Yes.” “Trouble. That fellow Mercer has found out all our plans, that is sure.” “Maybe he’s told others?” “I don’t think he’d dare to--he’s afraid of being arrested.” “What shall we do?” “I know what I’m going to do.” “What is that?” “Make myself scarce.” “Not run away?”