As I tramped along in the darkness my heart lightened considerably. The goal was close at hand now and I felt pretty certain that they would not foresee an attack on the garage. They knew that I had escaped, and they knew that I knew the location of the house. But running into the doctor and learning of the suspicious garage was pure chance and they could not know about that. So I felt pretty secure that we were not walking into another trap. For I hated to think of our fate, even so many of us, if they caught us down in that tunnel. Presently a building loomed up ahead of us and a little back from the road. It was a garage, with the familiar red gasolene pump standing outside it. A single dim light flickered through the open doors. “This is no place for a garage,” whispered Foster. “I didn’t even know that there was one here. It hasn’t been here very long. I’m sure of that, I’ve only been away from these parts about a year.” Suddenly the Chief spoke out in his natural voice, even raising it a little. “Well, by the Lord Henry, here’s a garage! What do you know about that? Boys, we’re in luck!” He stepped forward quickly into the doorway and we followed his lead, uttering exclamations of surprise. There were two men lounging in chairs at the back of the garage, but there were no cars in it. They sprang up when we entered and they seemed anything but glad to see us. The Chief tramped down the length of the place toward them with us behind him. “Hey, you fellows,” he called, “I’ve got a broken-down car back in the main road a ways. Can you come and take a look at it?” The two men looked at each other. Then one of them, a surly, dark individual, shook his head. “Naw, not to-night. We’re just going off. Bring it around in the morning.” The Chief was close to them now and they backed away from him a little, as a guilty man always will before a stranger who is accosting him. “But say,” he answered, “you’re not going to leave us in the lurch like that, are you? It’s only the pump chain’s broken. Here, wait a minute, I brought it along to show you.” He dived into his pocket and brought out a very serviceable-looking revolver. “Throw up your hands!” he roared at them. “Don’t move!” At the sight of the revolver, one of the men had started to make a dive toward the side of the garage. But at the Chief’s words he halted in his tracks. “Tie em up, you fellows,” the Chief added. One after the other, Foster bound and gagged the two swearing, foul-mouthed men, while I helped him as well as I could with my single available hand, using odds and ends of rope we found about the garage and part of the men’s overalls. Then we laid them down side by side, and not too gently, on the floor against the wall. That done, the Chief took out a pocket torch and walked over to the wall toward which the dark fellow had made his move when first held up. We followed him.