Shot after shot was exchanged, but LeBlanc, as well as those in the motor boat, seemed to bear charmed lives.
Once again, Jean LeBlanc had foiled justice and made his escape.
The chagrined pursuers returned to the late scene of hostilities, and found that order had been restored. The lumberjacks who had been promised immunity had been disarmed and herded together, waiting the word to leave the camp.
The ringleaders had been tied up to prevent any more escapes, and Mr. Boone and Dick, together with the other prisoners, had been removed from the stifling air of the storehouse.
Warm was the greeting between father and son and between the chums who were together once again, unharmed and happy. After the greetings were over, the traitorous lumberjacks were ordered to get their packs and leave within fifteen minutes under the guidance of the posse, while the prisoners were put on the trucks to be taken to the county jail.
“So ends the battle of Boone’s camp, and all the excitement. My boys, I can’t tell you how proud I am of you; but had I known the perils that were in store for you, I would never have started you on this mission. But you have covered yourselves with glory, and I’m proud of you. Now I must get a manager that will serve my interests, get this camp going and do what I can to try and retrieve what I have lost through the rascally Barrows. I am afraid that I am financially hurt unless we can bring Carson to book and make him stand this loss.”
“With our evidence I think you can,” said Garry. “And now what would you give for a real manager that would serve you and no one else?”
“I don’t know, but I would give almost anything in reason for such a man.”
“Then,” said Garry, “there’s your man,” and he pointed to Art Howells.
Garry’s father heartily agreed.