Jessie and Amy blocked the path in front while Nell encircled them to the right, cutting off escape in that direction.
The women took a step or two backward, showing their teeth like cornered rats. Then, turning to the one avenue of escape left to them, they crouched low and started to run.
“Stop them! Stop them!” cried Jessie, and at that moment a shadow detached itself from the deeper shadows of the forest and grasped the two women roughly.
“Thought you would get away, eh?” growled a voice which the girls recognized as belonging to the tallest of the three officers who had come to the lodge. “You would, too, if it had not been for these brave young ladies here. You think you’re a slick pair, but you didn’t get away with it. Come along now. I guess we’ve got the whole works.”
The girls returned in triumph, bearing their prisoners in tow, the grinning officer close at hand. When the boys saw them, they were greeted with loud shouts of delighted surprise.
“We got our men, too,” Burd told them boisterously, after the officer had taken the women away. “No more ghosts for ours, girls! We have laid ’em for good!”
“And in more senses than one,” added Darry, with a grin.
“Come on over and see this bunch of lowbrows,” said Fol, pointing to the group of captors and captives. The latter were still filling the air with shrieks and giving the officers a most unpleasant time of it.
Curiously, the girls and lads approached—but not too closely. An officer detached himself from the group and came toward them. It was the tall man whom they had already met twice that night. He smiled jubilantly upon them.
“One of those prisoners is Pietro Pebbo,” he informed them. “He is one of the slickest counterfeiters and law breakers the police have known for many a year, and he has gathered about him a choice set of scoundrels. I would like to ask one question,” he added, adjusting his pocket torch so that it illumined their faces. “Who is responsible for that radio message?”