is unexpected challenge that his finger
closed on the hair-trigger of his revolver. Fortunately his aim was so
wild that no harm was done by the shot that followed. It was all the
signal that the Sheriff's followers needed, and they immediately
carried out their part of the programme to the letter.

When the tumult subsided, the situation was as already described.
Billy Brackett sat on the floor, grasping Bim's collar, and awaiting
further developments as calmly as though he were merely a disinterested
spectator of this unique performance. The dog, with teeth displayed to
an alarming extent, stood ready to fly at the invaders whenever he
should be released. In front of this group, and a few paces from it,
stood half a dozen men, all of whom held guns that were pointed at the
young engineer. The form of the Sheriff, with pistol still levelled at
his prisoner, appeared at the open window.

"Do you surrender?" he demanded.

"Certainly," replied Billy Brackett, cheerfully; "if you desire it.
I'm always ready to accommodate, especially when it's no trouble to do
so."

"Throw up your hands, then," commanded the Sheriff.

"To do that," argued the prisoner, without moving, "I shall be obliged
to let go my hold of this bull-dog. The moment I do so our friends
with the empty guns will be apt to fancy that about a yard of
particularly hot and well-greased lightning has been forged for their
especial benefit. Still, if you insist--"

"Oh, hang your dog!" exclaimed Mr. Riley. "You must hold on to him, of
course, until we can find a rope to tie him with. Where are your pals?"

"This is the only one I have at present," answered Billy Brackett,
indicating him by a glance; "but I am in search of another, and have
reason to believe that he is on this island at this very minute.
Haven't seen anything of him, have you? He is a young fellow, about
sixteen, named Caspar, son of Major Caspar, of Caspar's Mill, up the
river a bit. He left home yesterday on a raft, and I was to join him
hereabouts."

"What sort of a raft?" asked the Sheriff.

"Big timber raft. Two sweeps at each end, and three shanties on it,
two of them filled with wheat."

"No," replied Mr. Riley, in a relieved tone; for on hearing the
well-known name of Caspar his men had exchanged meaning looks and
smiles, which indicated their belief that the Sheriff might be getting
into hot-water. "I did arrest a young rascal of about that age half an
hour ago,"