"Not yet," answered Mr. Paxton.
After a brief conference the two parties separated again, one to come up at the rear of the lodge, and the other close to the boat landing. At the latter place rested a skiff, and among the shrubbery near by were a horse and a large lumber wagon.
"They must be in the house," whispered Owen to Mr. Paxton.
"Don't make a noise," was the answer. "Let the sheriff make the first move."
A few minutes later Baptiste Ducrot appeared at the side door of the lodge. He looked anxiously around, and seeing nobody disappeared again. Then he and Link Axton came from the building carrying a trunk between them, and in their outer hands several bundles. Trunk and bundles were dumped into the wagon, and the two evil-doers went back into the lodge for more of their booty.
"Now is our time," said the sheriff to his men. "Don't parley with them, but make 'em surrender at once."
He and his men moved close to the lodge door and waited, pistols in hand. Soon Ducrot and Axton came forth again, with more bundles.
"Hands up, you rascals!" shouted the sheriff, and made a show of his weapon, while the deputies followed suit.
"Caught, by hemlock!" cried Link Axton. "And just when I thought everything was all right!"
"Don't shoot!" gasped Baptiste Ducrot, in sudden terror. "I haf done noddings, no! Don't shoot!" And he began to beg for mercy in his own language.