The noise they made drew the instant attention of Brady, Whipple and Pete.
"There's King now!" yelled Pete.
In a twinkling, Brady dropped the wrench and drew a revolver.
A sharp, incisive note echoed through the woods and across the river. Matt felt the wind of the bullet as it passed his face.
"Look out, matey!" bellowed Ferral. "Duck for a tree! You're not armed, and can't take any chances. He's going to shoot again."
But it was not necessary for Matt to get behind a tree. Before Brady could fire another shot in his direction, Harris and Twitchell rushed upon the scene.
"Drop your guns!" cried Harris sternly. "Stand right where you are! You're our prisoners!"
Brady, however, was made of sterner stuff. A prison cell was yawning to receive him, and he knew it.
Whipple and Pete, astounded by this sudden demonstration, paused undecided. Their fingers relaxed, and Dennison leaped away from them.
"Treachery!" roared Brady; "Harper has sold us out! Fight for it, boys!"