The revenue men laughed. "We know who you are," said the one that had spoken first, "an' we know our business, too; so long!"
Two hours later, as Westerfelt was about to go to bed in his room over the stable, he heard a voice calling down-stairs. He went to the window and looked out. Below he saw four men, two saddle horses, and a horse and wagon. He heard Washburn open the office door and ask:
"What do you folks want?"
"Want to put up our beasts an' this hoss an' wagon," was the reply. "We've got some gentlemen heer we're gwine to jail till mornin'."
"All right. I'll slide open the doors as soon as I git my shoes on. I wus in bed."
"We'll have to leave these barrels o' rotgut with you."
"All right. Plenty o' room." Westerfelt came down-stairs just as Washburn opened the big doors.
"Hello!" said the revenue officer who had addressed him on the mountain; "you see we made quick time; we found 'em right whar you left 'em."
"I see."
Washburn, who was under the skirt of a saddle unbuckling a girth, glanced at Westerfelt in surprise as he lifted the saddle from the horse and carried it into the stable. The two moonshiners exchanged quick glances and sullenly muttered something to each other. Westerfelt, intent on getting the business over that he might go to bed, failed to observe these proceedings. When the officers had taken their prisoners on towards the jail, Washburn, who, with a lantern, was putting the horses into stalls, turned to Westerfelt.