"What do you know about that?" muttered Cahill. "Those Dagos right in our hands! Then that flash went off and blinded us, and piff—they were gone!" "That’ll make some picture!" came a gleeful exclamation, and Humphrey appeared within the circle of light cast by the pocket lamps. "Picture, hell!" bellowed Cahill. "They got away!" Humphrey stared around with a bewildered air. "Why," he exclaimed, "when you turned on your lights I thought you had them fast. I decided that was the time to set off my flash light and shoot a picture of you in the very act of capturing your prisoners." "Bright idea, young fellow," snorted Cahill, "but in one second you killed a whole year’s detective work!" At this moment a wheezing sound was heard in the road. All turned in that direction and saw Green come staggering up, out of breath and almost speechless with his exertions. "Did—you—get—him?" gasped Green, with an effort. "Don’t see any strangers hanging around, do you?" sneered Cahill. "Well—the—man—started—for—the tree," declared Green, "and I—followed him." He gave a gulp and partly recovered his breath. "Just as I turned in—from the main road—down here—I heard the rumpus—and I thought you had got the man." "THE man?" exclaimed Cahill. "What are you talking about?" "Why—I was keepin’ watch at a house—up the road here—for Mr. Forrester. I heard a man arrangin’ to come down to the tree—to get the package." "Well, he split into _two_ by the time he got here," sneered Cahill. "You’ve been looking through last year’s almanac, partner." Forrester took the puffing Green by the arm and pushed him to one side. "If you know anything," he whispered, "keep it to yourself. We’ll talk it over later." "Look here," said O’Connor, suddenly, turning to Humphrey, "What you goin’ to do with that picture you took?" "Put it in the paper tomorrow," answered Humphrey, triumphantly. "A big headline across the top will read: ’Friends of the Poor’ caught while trying to collect their secret toll." "Don’t do it!" commanded O’Connor. "They ain’t caught yet. Keep it quiet about that picture. Give the negative to us. We’ll have the faces enlarged. Perhaps we can pick up these Dagos from their photos." "I get you," assented Humphrey. "I see I spoiled the game all right; and I’ll do all I can to help you. I’ll have that negative over at the detective bureau first thing in the morning." "O’Connor don’t talk much," observed Cahill, "but when he does, he says something. You get that picture to us quick, young fellow, and we’ll close this thing up with a bang! There’s no question about who the 'Friends of the Poor’ are now." "Did those fellows get my package?" inquired Forrester. "Not on your life!" returned Cahill. "They never got near enough to the tree for that." "Then," said Forrester, turning to Green, "you would better get that package and we’ll take it back with us. It may come in handy some other time."