Six rangers, two of whom the Scouts knew by sight, had surrounded Lowell Diethelm’s car. They had their revolvers trained on the two hi-jackers, but Diethelm was trying to put up a convincing story.
“I captured these birds red-handed,” he said glibly. “I was trying to get ’em to headquarters, when they over-powered me. I’m sure glad you fellows came along.”
“Yeah?” dryly inquired Ranger Wentz. “Sounds pretty phoney, Diethelm. You’ll have to think up a better one than that to tell the chief.”
By this time, Judy, Kathleen and Miss Meadows had reached the ranger cars. As rapidly as they could talk, they told the Forest Service men exactly what had occurred.
“You’re the girl who called over the radio phone, aren’t you?” one of the rangers asked Judy.
“That’s right.”
“She stopped the truck too, by putting nails on the road,” Kathleen added, very proud of her friend. “What a ‘welcome’ that mat proved to be for the hi-jackers!”
Within five minutes, the rangers were reenforced by state highway patrolmen, who had responded to an alert. If there had been any previous doubt as to the identity of the two hi-jackers, it then was dispelled. State highwaymen definitely identified Joe Pompilli, and recognized his companion as Porky Burns, a hi-jacker, who had operated in three states.
“Five or six drivers work this area,” a ranger told Judy. “Joe’s the head of the outfit though. We may never catch the others, but now that we have him, the gang will fall apart.”
“Joe was pretty reckless to keep working this territory after he knew he was wanted,” Judy remarked. “Especially after that truck accident, when Kathy and I patched him up.”