Then, “To X—This is Jack, Al. I’m in the woods about four miles from Claxton. We found the freight thieves, but they have Boyle prisoner. Ask the chief to have 17 take on a posse at CX and rush them here. I’ll wait here, and lead them back. If they are quick they’ll capture the whole gang.”
“OK! OK! Good for you,” shot back Alex. The wire was silent a moment, then Jack heard the order go on to Claxton as desired.
Twenty-five minutes later, waiting in the darkness on the track, Jack saw the headlight of the fast-coming freight. The engineer, on the lookout, discovered him, pulled up, and a moment after Jack was off through the woods followed by two officers and several of the train crew.
When they reached the farm, lights were still moving about in the barn. Stealthily the party made for it, and surrounded it.
“How would you like to lead the way in, Jack?” whispered the sheriff as they paused before the door. “That would be only fair, after the trick Watts played on you.”
Jack caught at the idea delightedly, and all being ready, boldly threw open the barn door and entered with drawn revolver, followed by the sheriff.
The four occupants were so completely taken by surprise that for a moment they stood immovable about a box of dry-goods they had been repacking.
“How do you do, Mr. Watts,” said Jack, smiling. “This is my friend the sheriff, and the barn is surrounded. I think you would be foolish not to give up.”
“Yes, hands up!” crisply ordered the sheriff. And slowly the four pairs of hands went into the air, and the entire balance of the long-successful gang of freight thieves were prisoners.
It was Jack himself who rushed off to the house and freed Detective Boyle. A half hour later, with one of the robbers’ own wagons filled with a great quantity of recovered stolen goods, the sheriff escorted his prisoners back to the railroad, and before daylight they were in the jail at Eastfield.