Half way back to the camp, Sandy crouched down at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“I’ll bet that’s Tommy trying to give me a scare,” was the boy’s thought.

He listened intently for a moment, without hearing a repetition of the noise, and started on again.

“If I thought that really was Tommy,” he mused, “I’d arrange a neat little surprise for him. He’s always up to his tricks.”

The sound of heavy breathing came to his ears directly, and, not having the least doubt that the approaching figure was that of his chum, he waited for an instant until the labored breathing seemed to be passing the spot where he stood and leaped forward.

Much to his amazement he struck a pair of broad, muscular shoulders instead of the slender shoulders of his chum and felt himself in the grasp of a pair of powerful hands.

“What are you prowling around in the night for?” was asked.

Sandy pulled away at the hand which was smothering him and taking the hint, his captor released him for a moment.

“I can’t talk with my mouth and nose all stopped up!” returned the boy. “What did you want to go and do that for?”

“What are you prowling about in the night for?” repeated the other.

Sandy thought he recognized the voice as that of Katz, the plain-clothes policeman who had lied on the previous evening regarding his residence and his calling.

“I might ask the same of you,” replied Sandy, mopping his face with his handkerchief. “What are you prowling around for?”

“Keeping an eye on your camp,” replied the other gruffly.

“What for?” demanded Sandy.

“Because you’re suspicious characters.”

“You’re Katz, aren’t you?” asked Sandy.

“Who told you that?” snarled the other.

“John Johnson,” was the reply.

“I recognized him as one of Horton’s men,” declared Katz.

“That’s what he is!” Sandy answered.

“What has Horton got to do with you?”

“That’s some more of our business!” replied the boy.

“Now, look here,” the detective said in a moment, “we’re here, as you probably know by this time, in search of an escaped convict. We have positive information that he is hiding somewhere in this district. We have brought in plenty of supplies, and intend to remain here until we find him. He’s a slippery fellow, but we’ll get him yet.”

“That doesn’t interest me any,” suggested Sandy.

“But I’m going to interest you in just about one minute!” declared Katz. “The boy who stole my property and left your camp in the night is likely to return there at any time. We want that boy. Will you help us get him? If you don’t, you’re likely to get into trouble yourselves.”

“I guess there isn’t much chance of his coming back to us!” Sandy answered. “I guess you know that yourself.”

“You know who he is?” ask the detective.

“We’ve been told,” was the reply, “that he is the son of the man you’re hunting for, but we don’t believe it.”

“Well, we’ve made up our minds that he is,” Katz went on, “and we’ve also made up our minds to watch your camp until the boy shows up again. I’ll teach him to steal my badge of authority!”

“When you catch him,” Sandy requested, “just let us know. We want to see him ourselves. Will you do that?”

“I guess you’ll see him before we do,” replied Katz, gruffly. “And now, if you don’t mind,” the detective went on, “I’ll just go over to the camp with you and see what the other boys say about him. And while I’m there, you might make me a couple of cups of coffee. I’m a long distance from my camp and quite hungry.”

Notwithstanding the impudence of the request, the boy consented to the arrangement and the two were starting away together when the sound of approaching footsteps was heard.

“Gee whiz!” exclaimed Sandy. “This deserted country seems to me about like the corner of State and Madison streets tonight. There’s always some one walking around in the dark.”

“Suppose we wait and see who it is,” suggested the detective.

Now, Sandy had an idea that one of the persons approaching was Tommy and that the other might possibly be Chester Wagner. He had no notion of assisting the detective to get his hands on the boy, and so hung back when Katz would have stepped forward to intercept those who were advancing toward him. Thinking this an attempt to break away, Katz caught the lad by the arm and held fast to him while the others went by.

Sandy was certain that he heard Tommy’s voice as the two passed, but was not certain that he recognized the voice of his companion in the low reply which was made. The boy realized that he must have occupied considerable time in his return to camp, after leaving his chum.

“And so, one of your chums was prowling around in the darkness, too,” snarled the detective. “Who is that person with him?”

“I don’t know,” answered Sandy.

“Yes you do know, too!” gritted Katz, “You just came from that direction yourself, and you probably left the two together when you came away.”

“You’re off there,” Sandy answered.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” the detective went on, “and that is that you boys have been out after that Wagner kid. I believe he’s going into the camp with your chum right this minute. Anyway, I’ll take you in and find out about it.”

As the two advanced toward the campfire they watched in vain for the two figures which had gone on ahead.

“You walk in there and see whether that boy thief is there or not,” commanded the detective. “And remember,” he went on, threateningly, “that I’m waiting here in the darkness with an automatic revolver in my hand, so you’d better not attempt any funny business!”

When he reached Tommy’s side he saw that the boy was frying bacon and eggs and making coffee. The large skillet used by the boys contained at least half a dozen eggs and about half a pound of breakfast bacon.

“Where’s your friend?” Sandy asked in a whisper.

Tommy laid a finger on his lips as a request for low-voiced conversation. All the time he kept busy with the skillet.

“He’s back there watching us with a loaded automatic in his hand,” whispered the boy. “I wish one of the boys would get up and put a bullet through his head. That’s what he deserves!”

“Who is it?” whispered Sandy.

“One of the train robbers!” was the startling reply.

“Where’d you get him?”

“He geezled me out here on the slope!”

“And came in with you and ordered his dinner?”

“That’s it!” was the reply.

Sandy sat down on the grass beside the fire and chuckled until he was red in the face. Tommy almost permitted the bacon to burn while he watched his chum with wide-open eyes.

“If that train robber should send a bullet out this way, you wouldn’t think it so funny!” Tommy declared. “He’s a mighty suspicious fellow. He wouldn’t permit me to wake any of the boys to help get supper.”

“Look here,” whispered Sandy, “I’ve got that imitation detective out there waiting for me to tell him whether Chester Wagner is here or not. He says he’s hungry, too, and insists that I give him a night lunch. Now I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” the boy continued. “I’ll go and steer the detective up against the train robber, and we’ll see what he’ll do.”

Before Tommy could reply, Sandy was away in the darkness, whistling softly to the detective.

“Say,” he said, when Katz came lumbering into the edge of the illumination, “the boy isn’t there, but I’ve got good news for you, just the same. The man who went in with my chum is one of the train robbers the cowboys are in search of. There’s ten thousand dollars reward offered for him, and all you’ve got to do is to walk in there, hold a gun to his head, and march him off to Green River. You ought to give me half the reward, though,” the boy added, “for you wouldn’t have caught him only for me.”

“All right,” whispered the detective in a shaking voice. “I’ll creep back into the shadows and come up from behind. When you go back, point with your hand to where he is. I’ll be right there with a gun on him in half a minute!”

“All right,” replied Sandy, and the detective disappeared from view.

Then the boy walked back to Tommy’s side and explained what sort of circus there would be there in about a minute.