The names were given.
“Frank Merriwell, Bruce Browning, Jack Diamond, Bart Hodge and Hans Dunnerwust,” read the officer, when he had penciled the names on the paper, “I arrest you for the violation of the game laws of the State of Maine, and shall hold you to answer accordingly.”
A gurgling speech of fear came from within the tent, where Hans was trying to hide himself under some blankets.
“Now I’ll hear your story,” said the officer, glancing at the sun, “but I warn you that we must be in a hurry, if we are to get very far on our way to-night.”
Merry reddened a little under this, in spite of his effort to keep from doing anything of the kind. The words were so palpable an indication that the officer did not intend to give the story credit!
As Merriwell had always been the soul of honor, it cut him to the quick to have his statement doubted thus in advance.
“I see that you have made up your mind against us already, Mr.——”
“Parker is my name,” said the warden, when Merriwell hesitated.
“I see that you have made up your mind to believe us guilty, Mr. Parker, in spite of anything we can show to the contrary, which you must admit is hardly fair.”
“It is not my place to decide whether you’re guilty or innocent,” said Parker. “The justice of the peace will do that.”