“I doubt if it will be necessary to do any shooting,” said Rossmore Ford. “Tramps are usually cowards and give up at the sight of firearms. If we do any shooting somebody of our own party may get hurt.”
They spread out in a circle and with caution drew closer to the tramps’ camp. As they approached they saw that three men were resting under the rude shelter. Presently one of the men raised his head, looked around and uttered a cry of warning. Then all leaped to their feet, gazing at the approaching men and boys in consternation.
“Surrender, in the name of the law!” shouted the fat deputy sheriff.
“Wot’s dis anyhow?” demanded one of the tramps, trying to retreat, and finding himself hemmed in.
“Do you surrender, or do you want to be shot?” asked the butcher.
“Surrender?” asked a second tramp. “Wot’s dis? We ain’t done nuthin.”
“Up with your hands!” went on the deputy sheriff, who was bound to make the capture as dramatic as possible, and up into the air went three very dirty pairs of hands.
“Any more of you around here?” asked Andy, quickly, for he saw that not one of the fellows present was the individual he had met at the jewelry store.
“De udders have——” began the third tramp, a nervous looking young fellow.
“You shut yer mouth, Bug!” cried the first tramp who had spoken, warningly.