Instantly, excitement broke out in that quiet region, which up till then had been perfectly silent except for the distant quacking of wild ducks who had been skimming the water a mile or so away, the rushing of the evening breeze through the swaying rushes, and the occasional toot of a railroad locomotive taking home a load of commuters. Patsy swung his revolver over till its muzzle was exactly opposite the right eye of Foxey Irwin, while Nick Carter pointed his automatic steadily at Larry Dugan, with the quiet warning: “Don’t move, Dugan! Half an inch to one side or the other, and I touch the trigger.” “Touch, eh?” sneered Dugan. “Why don’t you pull it while you are about it--if you have the nerve to shoot at all.” “A touch is all that is needed with this gun, Dugan,” returned Nick. “It’s the easiest trigger I ever put my finger on. And I wouldn’t advise you to test my nerve about shooting.” Nick Carter would not have parleyed thus if he had not seen that Marcos had sprung at the throat of Pet Carlin and snatched away that innocent-looking person’s pistol just as it leaped from his side pocket. Carlin was known as a “killer,” and there is little doubt that he would have tried to “get” Nick Carter at the instant that the detective covered Dugan, if Marcos had not been too quick for him. Nick had perfect faith in this prince from Joyalita who looked so much like himself. He had seen that Marcos never permitted himself to get rattled, but was always in complete control of his nerves. So, when Marcos leaped at Carlin just as the other boat swung alongside, anticipating, by a sliver of a second, the drawing of Pet’s gun, it was no more than Nick Carter had felt sure would happen. “Put on the cuffs, Patsy!” whispered Nick to his assistant. “Get Foxey first. Then take Dugan.” “What about the guys in the doorway?” asked Patsy, as he prepared to obey orders. “I’ll look after them. They’ve got to show me where Chick is.” “That’s right! Look out, Foxey!” This last ejaculation had been caused by a sudden twitch on the part of Foxey Irwin, as Patsy, having stepped from one boat to the other, snapped a handcuff on Foxey’s right wrist before he knew what threatened him. “I’ll croak you when I get out of this, Garvan,” hissed Foxey. “Maybe! But that will be in about seven years’ time, when you come down from up the river, and there’s no telling what may happen before that,” replied Patsy, undisturbed. At the same moment he caught Foxey Irwin’s left wrist and trapped it in the other cuff. Patsy had been taught to put on handcuffs long ago, and he could do the work so neatly that it looked like sleight-of-hand to an unaccustomed eye. Meanwhile, Nick Carter had handcuffed Dugan on his left wrist, holding the other steel bracelet in his own left hand, while his right kept the automatic pointed at Dugan’s forehead.