Nearer came the boat. It could now be seen that those who handled the oars were trying to make less noise, as though desirous of not arousing the sleepers they expected to take by surprise. Suddenly Jack called out as sternly as he could: "Stop there! or it will be the worse for you!" He also waved the gun that the starlight might glint from its barrel, and show the men in the boat they were not unarmed. A man stood up in the bow of the advancing craft, and a heavy voice shouted: "It's all up with you, men. You are known, and we demand you to surrender in the name of the law!" CHAPTER VIII. LEFT IN THE LURCH. The two young cruisers in the motor boat could not say a single word when these astounding words reached their ears. Meanwhile the other craft had drawn quickly nearer, and Jack could even make out the fact that the men crowded in her seemed to be in some sort of uniform, for he certainly discovered brass buttons. Then it was not a joke, nor yet some sort of trick being played by cunning river vagrants in order to catch the boys off their guard. Jimmie was rubbing his eyes, and muttering to himself, as though he began to believe he might be dreaming. "Don't think of offering any resistance, you rascals!" continued the gruff voice in the nearby boat; "because we're ready to give you a volley. Take hold there, Grogan. Now aboard with you!" A couple of burly men came sliding into the natty little motor boat. Then lights flashed in the faces of the two astonished occupants. "Say, they're a couple of boys, Cap!" exclaimed the man who had grasped hold of Jack, as the glow of his lantern illuminated the face of the skipper of the _Tramp_. "Guess you've made a little mistake, mister," remarked the boy, as calmly as he could, for he was naturally more or less excited. "Hold on there!" bellowed the leader of the expedition, as he started to clamber aboard; "don't let up on 'em a minute, men! Just remember the account said something about the thieves being young chaps, with smooth faces. This is the boat to a dot; and I reckon we've got our men!" But even he was more or less shaken when he came to look into the smiling countenance of Jack Stormways. "Take a look around," he said, presently. "Perhaps you may find the evidence we want, and the plunder. These are the days of the young men. I've known mere kids to undertake jobs that long ago would have staggered old professionals." While two of the men were upsetting things in their eager search, the man who had been called "Captain" once more turned to Jack. "Who are you fellows, where'd you come from, and what are you doing here up this creek?" he demanded, harshly, as though expecting to scare the other into a confession of guilt. "My name is Jack Stormways, and his is Jimmie Brannagan. We are on our way south on a little race to New Orleans. There are two other motor boats in the match, and a prize of the Dixie silver cup falls to the winner."