"Fits hasn't gotten away, has he?" hailed Dave, in a hoarse undertone.
"We haven't seen him go," Dick replied. "For all we know he's still in the shack. Officers?"
Dick indicated the two men.
"One of them is a constable," nodded Dave; "the other is a neighbor sworn in as a deputy."
"If your thief is around here, sonny," grinned the constable, "we'll soon have him where he won't trouble you. Easy, now, with the talk. We don't want to give the fellow any warning."
The constable and his deputy slipped down in front of the log cabin, followed by the boys.
"Look out! That rascal will shoot!" screamed Hen, in an agony of fear about something.
At that instant the door of the shack flew open. The two men were just in time to see Mr. Fits step out, on snowshoes. In another instant Dick & Co., behind the officers, also got a glimpse of the fellow.
"Hold on, there, neighbor," advised the constable coolly. "Just wait until we have a word with you."
Officer and deputy ran over the snowcrust. Mr. Fits, looking, or pretending to be, a bit dazed, stood as if he expected to wait for the men to come up with him. But suddenly a grin appeared on the face of the rascal.