“My name is Boone,” answered Garry, acting as the spokesman for his little party. “I am on my way to try and locate the sheriff of the county, as my father and friends are held prisoner at the Boone lumber cutting camp.”
“Well, I’m the sheriff, and I’m on my way there now. We’ll look you over in a moment and see if you’re all right.”
The words of the sheriff surprised Garry.
“How did you know that you were wanted at the camp?”
“My boy picked a message out of the air with his radio, and that’s how we found out,” answered the sheriff.
Garry gave a shout of joy. “Good for Dick, he managed somehow to get a chance to use his wireless.”
“Now,” said the sheriff, “lower the muzzles of those rifles and come forward slowly. My men have you covered and you have no chance for any monkey business.”
Knowing that they could soon convince the sheriff of their statements, they did as they were bade. When they came into the light cast by the headlights of the truck, the sheriff at once recognized Art Howells.
“Hello, Art, guess that is all I want to know. These fellows all right? I know you well enough to take your word for it.”
“They are absolutely O.K., Sheriff,” answered Art. “We were on our way to summon you when you met us.”