“Boys,” he said, “hold on!” They faced him, startled. The one who had spoken caught up a lantern and turned it on him. “Denny!” he exclaimed. “Spyin’ on us!” “I’m borough constable,” said Denny. “Destroying property has a penalty attached.” The men crowded round him, disturbed, angry, threatening. “Well, here we are!” said the leader, scornfully. “Arrest us.” “There won’t be any arrests if there’s no damage done, O’Brien,” Denny answered. O’Brien turned and struck his mattock into the earth. “Show him a little damage, boys,” he urged. “Yank up the pipe.” The others set to work, cursing at Denny meanwhile. The dirt flew; they flung it jeeringly at him. “All right,” said Denny. “You are twelve men against one. Maybe I can’t arrest you to-night, but I’ve got your names.” In a few moments they had exposed the pipe, which was not buried deep. Then O’Brien knelt and sawed it through in two places, and cast the section at Denny’s feet. “There!” he said. “How d’ye like the looks of that, Mr. Constable? And now, so’s you won’t follow us and see where else we operate, we’ll just tie you up for a while.” “You fellows will be piling up trouble for yourselves,” Denny warned them. “Murphy and Conway, there—you ought to have more sense.” One of these two men, Murphy, spoke in a low voice, unwillingly: “I guess maybe we’d better quit. If he reports us—” “He ain’t going to report us!” interrupted O’Brien. “He don’t dare. Come, boys, get a-hold of him, and we’ll tie him up—” He advanced a step toward Denny, and in the same instant Denny drew a revolver and leveled it at O’Brien’s head. “Don’t lay a hand on me,” he said, quietly. “Get behind him and grab him, somebody!” shouted O’Brien. “Spread out and get round him.” But the men hesitated. “I said we’d ought to have wore masks!” muttered one. “He’s seen us all now.” O’Brien made a quick dash, trying to circle Denny, who whirled and held the revolver pointed at O’Brien’s face. “Jump on him now!” shouted O’Brien; and then one, bolder than the others, sprang upon Denny’s shoulders and bore him to the ground. O’Brien was instantly upon him also, got possession of his revolver, and then with breathless imprecations began winding a rope about his ankles. “All right!” muttered Denny. “You’ve got me—but you fellows will pay for this.” Then Ross walked into the midst of the group. The leader of the gang looked up from where he knelt. “It’s you, is it?” he said, defiantly. Ross turned from him to the others. “Will you give me five minutes?” he asked. “I’m in your power; I’m all alone. Will you let me have five minutes to talk?” “Go on,” said one of the men. “Just five minutes, mind,” said O’Brien, truculently. He tightened the rope that bound Denny’s arm behind his back and stood up.