When Morgan arose from his "shake-down" on the morning of this particular day, he was promptly joined by his brother Dan, whose actions told him as plainly as words that he had reasons of his own for not wishing to disturb his father's slumbers.

Dan was generally the last one of the family to bestir himself in the morning, and even after he got upon his feet, it took him a good while to wake up; but it was not so in this instance. His senses came to him the moment he opened his eyes, and, for a wonder, he brought in the wood, and lent a hand at setting the table.

He moved about the room with noiseless footsteps, spoke in scarcely audible whispers, and cast frequent and anxious glances toward his father's couch.

"Well, sir, we done it, didn't we?" said he, when breakfast had been eaten and he and Joe were hurrying along the road toward the place of meeting.

"Did what?" inquired his brother.

"Got away without waking pap up," said Dan, who was in high glee. "I knew he said last night that he didn't mean to go, but I wasn't such a fool as to believe it. He wanted to go with you; and then do you know what would have happened if you and him had captured one of them bugglars? Well, sir, he would have laid claim to the whole of the reward, and never give you a cent of it. I'm onto his little games. And he's going to make you hand over them three thousand dollars you made yesterday. He's a mighty mean, stingy feller, pap is, and you want to watch out for him."

Dan talked to keep up his courage, which began to ooze out of the ends of his fingers when he found himself drawing near to the gorge; but Joe was so deeply engrossed with his own thoughts that he did not hear a dozen words of it.

The young game-warden was not building air-castles. He was by no means as confident as Dan appeared to be, that it would be his luck to assist in the capture of one of the robbers, and, if the truth must be told, he hoped that that dangerous duty would fall to somebody else.

He had more money now than he had ever expected to possess, and his brains were busy with plans for keeping it out of his father's reach.

While he was turning them over in his mind, they came within sight of his cabin. Dan insisted on seeing the inside of it, so Joe pulled out the loosened staple, and threw open the door.

"Ain't you mighty glad that you wasn't here when them robbers come up and stole your grub and things?" said he, after he had taken a look around. "Say, Joey, you'll keep old man Warren's rifle, to take the place of the scatter-gun you lost, won't you?"

"Of course not," was Joe's indignant reply. "Why, Dan, this rifle is worth forty or fifty dollars!"

"So much the better," answered Dan, who evidently thought that a fair exchange with Mr. Warren could not by any means be looked upon in the light of a robbery. "You lost your gun while you was working for him, and through no fault of your'n, and I say he'd oughter give you another. Them's my sentiments."

"Well, they are not mine," said Joe, closing the door, and replacing the staple. "I wouldn't have the face to look at a man again if I should ever mention the matter to him."

Dan did not know how to combat these sentiments, which were so widely at variance with his own, and as there was no longer any necessity that he should talk to keep his courage up, seeing that there was a large number of officers and guides almost within the sound of their voices, he said nothing.

A quarter of an hour's walk brought them to Tom's cabin, where they found a score or more of men, who were leaning on their rifles, or lounging around on the ground in various attitudes.

These, they afterward learned, comprised but a small portion of the crowd that had assembled there that morning in obedience to the summons of the sheriff and his deputy, the others having gone off in squads of four men each to begin the search.

Mr. Warren told Joe that Tom Hallet was so impatient to be doing something for his friend, that he had left with the first squad that went out. He said, also, that a good many more men had gone, or were going, out from Bellville and Hammondsport; so the capture of the robbers was a foregone conclusion.

"By dividing into small parties we shall be able to give all the ravines and every piece of woods in the country, for miles around, a thorough overhauling before night," added Mr. Warren, "and we thought that four men were enough for each squad. They won't care to have the reward divided among too many, you know. I am going with the sheriff, and shall be glad to have you make one of our party."

"And I shall be glad to do it," replied Joe.

As Mr. Warren walked away to speak to the officer, Dan pulled his brother's coat-sleeve, and whispered:

"He didn't say that he'd be glad to have me make one of his party, did he? Well, I'm going, all the same. Say, Joey, if our squad gobbles both them bugglars, how much'll that be for each of us?"

"Twelve hundred and fifty dollars," was the reply.

"Well, now, sposen our squad catches one of 'em, and some other squad away off somewheres else catches t'other one—how much will that be for each feller?"

"A little over three hundred dollars."

"Is that all?" said Dan. And, to have heard him speak, you would have thought that he was in the habit of carrying a good deal more money than that loose in his pockets every day. "And you've got more'n three thousand dollars a coming to you! Dog-gone such luck as I do have, any way!"

It was probable that Dan had more to say on this point. He usually had a good deal to say whenever he fell to talking about his bad luck; but just then Mr. Warren beckoned to Joe, who promptly stepped forward to join his squad, Dan keeping close to his heels.

"I wish I could think up some plan to get even with old man Warren for the way he's acting," thought Dan, who was indignant because the gentleman did not show him a little more respect. "I don't reckon he wants me along, but I don't care whether he does or not. I'm here to stay, no odds if there is five men instead of four in the party, and if we catch them bugglars I'll make 'em hand over my share. That'll be—lemme see."

After an infinite deal of trouble and much hard thinking, Dan arrived at the conclusion that his share of the reward, if any were earned by that squad, would be just one-fifth of five thousand dollars.

But Joe would come in for a share, also, and then he would have four thousand dollars, while Dan would have but one. Did anybody ever hear of such luck? Joe was ahead, and Dan didn't see any way to catch up with him.

The sheriff's squad walked far and hunted faithfully all that day. There was no thicket too dense for them to penetrate, and no gorge so dark and gloomy that they were afraid to go down into it; but they saw nothing of the robbers, and neither did they happen to come upon either of the other searching parties.

They stopped for lunch on the banks of a trout brook, and the sheriff was filling his pipe for a smoke, when all on a sudden he struck a listening attitude, at the same time enjoining silence upon his companions by a motion of his hand.

"That's two," said he, in a low voice. "Now wait. That's three. Now wait a little longer, and perhaps we shall hear some gratifying news."

The others held their breath to listen, and presently, faint and far off, and rendered somewhat indistinct by intervening hills, and by the echoes that mixed themselves up with the sound, they heard three reports of heavily-loaded shotguns.

"Hurrah for law and order," cried the sheriff. "Our work is half done, and some lucky squad will have twenty-five hundred dollars to divide among its members."

"We don't get none of it, do we?" whispered Dan to his brother.

"Did we have any hand in making the capture?" asked Joe, in reply. "Of course, we don't."

"Dog-gone such luck!" murmured the disappointed Dan.

"One of the outlaws has come to grief," continued the sheriff, "and that proves that they must have separated. I should much like to know what they did with their prisoner. It seems to me, from where I stand, that they were guilty of an act of folly when they gobbled Bob. They ought to have known that by doing a thing of that kind, they would get every able-bodied man in the country after them."

The officer and his squad were so anxious to have a hand in completing the work so well begun, that they did not remain long in camp, although they might have passed the rest of the day there for all the good they did.

Every now and then they stopped to listen, but they never heard any signals to indicate that the other robber had been apprehended. That, however, was no sign that such signals had not been given; for the Summerdale hills covered a good deal of territory, and the searching parties were so widely scattered that it would have taken a field-piece to signal to all of them.

Finally, the sheriff announced, with a good deal of reluctance, that it was time to go home; and it was with equal reluctance that the members of his squad turned their steps towards Tom Hallet's cabin.

It was almost dark when they came in sight of it, but still there was light enough for Joe Morgan to see that the cabin had been visited during their absence, and that there was a communication of some sort awaiting them.

It was fastened to the door, and Joe ran ahead of the squad and took it down. Then he found that it was not intended for any one in particular, but had been left for the information of everybody who had taken part in the search.

"Shall I read it, Mr. Warren?" asked Joe, when his employer came up. "It is in Tom Hallet's own hand."

"Let us hear it at once," replied Mr. Warren.

And Joe read as follows:

"Good and bad news.—Robber No. 1 was captured by Brierly's squad at half-past twelve. Bob Emerson is with me now, and none the worse for his adventure. That's the good news.

"Nothing has been seen or heard of robber No. 2, who doubtless fled deeper into the hills than any of our searching parties had time to go. The Bellville and Hammondsport squads say they will try him again to-morrow. That's the bad news."

"And it isn't so very bad, either," said the sheriff. "If he gets lost, as I hope he will, we'll have him to-morrow, sure; but if he works his way out of the hills, we shall have to call upon the telegraph to help us. So Brierly has made himself wealthy by this day's work. I should think that he could afford to let your blue-headed birds alone, now, Mr. Warren."

"Did any living person ever hear of such luck?" muttered Dan. "Everybody is getting wealthy, 'cepting me."

The squad broke up here, Mr. Warren and two companions turning into the cow-path that led down the mountain by the shortest route, and Joe and Dan striking for home, where a most astonishing discovery awaited them.