His partner sprang almost instantly into a sitting posture, and his hand went to a six-shooter that he had bolstered at his hip. But Dig was ready. He uttered a yell of derision and dropped his noose over the villain, whipping it so tight at the first pull that the man uttered a cry of pain. “Got him!” cried Dig. Chet had been just as quick as his chum. When he pulled the line taut he sprang over the log and landed right on the back of Tony Traddles, knocking the big fellow forward on his face. The boy fastened the rope with a good knot and left Tony thrashing about and sputtering, while he ran to see that Dig and his prisoner were all right. The man with the black sombrero could not get at his gun, and struggle as he did he could not loosen the rope. Soon the boys had wound the slack of the lariat around him, from elbows to heels, and laid him out like an “Indian papoose,” as Dig said, chuckling. Then the chums went to Tony and, in spite of his kicking, and ignoring his threats, they triced him up as carefully and securely as they had his comrade in crime. “I know who that other man is now,” said Chet. “Don’t you recognise him, Dig?” “No. My acquaintance doesn’t run among such fellows as he,” answered Dig. “The mean thief! That’s my blanket he was sleeping in. I’ll take it and hang it over a bush to air.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Chet, smiling. “He’s the fellow who was hanging around our house. Don’t you remember that when I shot that hawk, he was there? And he is the same fellow who, the day of the cave-in at the mine, was up in the mountain with Amoshee.” “With John Peep?” “Yes. I know he is interested in the Crayton claim, and he’s stolen those deeds from me. I’m going to get them back,” and Chet approached the man with determination. “You keep away from me, you young snipe!” growled the man. “When I get out o’ this I’ll make you sweat.” “You’re going to perspire yourself, mister, I should think,” said Dig, giggling. “We have you right. You stole from us—” “Nothing of the kind!” blustered the fellow. “We never saw you before.” “I think we recognise that blanket and those pots and pans,” said Chet gravely. “You needn’t tell stories about it. You robbed us and now we’re going to take our things back.” “We ought to drive them along to Grub Stake, too,” suggested Dig, “and turn them over to the police.” “You young smart Alecks will get your comeuppance,” muttered the man. “You let me loose or it will be the worse for you.” “How about me?” bawled Tony. “I’ll break ’em in two if I git my hands on ’em. That boy of old Havens’ ’specially.” Chet meanwhile had approached the black-hatted man, and now he began to search his pockets. The man used frightful threats to check him; but Chet was not to be stopped. “You might as well save your breath to cool your porridge,” quoth Dig, grinning. “My chum is going to get back those deeds, and don’t you forget it!”