Diamond’s dark face flushed angrily, while Bart Hodge and Bruce Browning variously showed their surprise and displeasure.
“On what charge?” Merriwell demanded, though he did not need to ask.
“Killing game out of season,” said the spokesman, glancing at the head of the moose. “I am a game warden, and these are my deputies, and the law makes it our duty to arrest you.”
“Just a question,” interrupted Diamond. “Did anyone send you here to make this arrest?”
The officer hesitated, then, without answering, took out a pencil and a piece of paper.
“There is a reward, is there not, for information leading to such an arrest?” continued Diamond. “I am sure there is, so you needn’t answer that question if you do not choose.”
Merriwell did not need to inquire what Diamond meant by those interrogations. The belief had come to Diamond that John Caribou had hurried to these officers, and, for the expected reward, had told them that the people in camp on the shore of Lily Bay were poachers.
“Going into the business pretty bold,” observed another of the officers, discovering the head of the doe, which had been tossed out some distance from the tents. “A moose and a deer. Dead to rights on two heavy charges, anyway.”
“See here,” said Merriwell, striving to remain cool. “I will agree that appearances are against us; but I declare to you, just the same, that we are law-abiding people and not poachers. If you will listen to us we can tell you just how we came by both of those heads.”
“I’ll take your names first,” said the officer with the pencil and paper, in a skeptical tone.