“Hands up there, Red Joe, and all the rest of you,” came in stern tones from their right. Instantly the breeds obeyed the order and the boys turned to see three men, all carrying automatics in their hands, step from behind trees only a few feet away. “That’s right,” said one, as he stepped forward. “Just keep ’em up. The first one who makes a move will be bored. Now drop that gun, Joe.” The breed obeyed without a word but, as Jack afterward declared, if looks would kill, the officer would not have had a chance. One of the men quickly picked up the gun and dropped it into his pocket. “Frisk ’em, Bill,” the leader ordered, “while I keep ’em covered.” “Now you can put ’em down,” he said, after one of his men had taken a revolver and a wicked looking knife from each of them. “You mak’ one beeg meestake, oui,” the breed whom the officer had called Red Joe, began. “Dis team belong to dees boys.” The officer laughed. “It won’t work, Joe. We’ve had an eye on you for some time and know all about you.” Then, turning to Bob, he asked: “Mind telling us who you are? We’re revenue men and we’ve been after these fellows for a long time and now it looks as though we’d got ’em with the goods.” Bob quickly explained their presence. “That’s all right and I’m mighty glad to know you,” and he held out his hand. “My friend, Jim Blake, told me, just before I came up here from Washington, how you helped him locate a still over on Mount Bigelow last summer.” “And I’m very glad to shake hands with a friend of Jim Blake,” Bob declared, as he grasped the outstretched hand. Introductions followed all around. “You certainly came at the right time for us,” Rex declared. “Yes, I rather guess we did. They’re a bad bunch and might have made you uncomfortable to say the least,” the officer said, with a glance at his prisoners who were standing, in a sullen group, guarded by one of his men. “Now, Hen,” he said, addressing the other man, “let’s see what they’ve got under that canvass. Bill’ll look out for ’em.” “Just as I thought,” he declared a moment later, as, the canvass being stripped off, a large quantity of jugs and bottles were disclosed. “You see these birds brought this stuff across the border and were taking it down to Jackman. We heard about it and started to meet ’em, but they must have got wind some way that we were after ’em and were beating it back over the line. “How’d you know we were after you, Joe?” he called to the breed. But Joe refused to answer. “Oh, well, have it your own way,” the officer said indifferently. “We got you with the goods and that’s the main thing.” “Are you going back?” Bob asked. “No. I wish we could go with you boys, but we’ve got to take these birds to Presque Isle and I guess we’d better be moving.” As he spoke, the officer took from his pocket four pairs of handcuffs, and a moment later they were adorning the wrists of the half-breeds.