They were around those pines before Johnny in his suspense breathed twice.
“Now! You ready?” Drew squared his shoulders.
“Now then, you fellows!” His voice sounded out strangely in the night. “We got you covered. Reach for the stars!”
There was a sound of sudden commotion by the camp fire. Three figures leaped into view. But they were not “reaching for the stars.” Their hands hung awkwardly at their sides.
“Now what—” Drew all but dropped his gun.
“That’s not the bunch we’re after,” he said in a low tone aside to Johnny. “Got to keep ’em comin’ though. Got guns. May shoot us without knowing what it’s all about.
“As you are!” he commanded sharply. “One move, and out goes your light.”
The men did not move. Instead, as Drew approached them slowly, they stood blinking into his flashlight.
Drew took in the scene at a glance. The camp had been made on a shelving rock. A little back from the fire lay the hind quarters of a moose.
“Great luck!” he thought to himself. “Poachers. Not allowed to kill moose on this island.”