The unexpected appearance of the three strangers stupefied Ned, but Bug turned like a flash and started to run. Two of the men instantly overhauled him and threw him roughly to the ground, while a third hastily opened the slide of a dark lantern that was strapped to his waist and cast a flood of light upon the scene.

Ned uttered a gasp of amazement. The man with the lantern was Mose Hocker.

The recognition was mutual.

"You here!" cried Hocker in a pained voice. "I didn't expect this. Is it possible that you lads came down to my cabin and stole the gun and the boat? I wouldn't have believed it of you without the evidence of my own eyes."

"And this here's the same feller I had locked up in the smoke house," exclaimed one of Bug's captors. "I'll bet he don't steal any more chickens for a while."

Ned stood pale and agitated before his accuser—quite at a loss for words to explain.

"I'm sorry for you," resumed Hocker, "but I must do my duty an' hand you over to constable Jeffries. Where are the rest of your party?"

The words came with a rush now as Ned eagerly denied his guilt and explained away the incriminating circumstances.

Then, while the others clustered about him, he commenced the story at the beginning, and went through with it thread by thread.

His excitement caused him to speak a little inarticulately; and he missed a few details, but by adroit cross questioning his hearers obtained a clear understanding of the whole situation—starting with the rescue of Bug's brother and ending with the events that had recently transpired at the mill.

Ned was so anxious to procure Bug's release that he quite forgot his suspicions of a few moments before—namely, that Bug was equally guilty with Moxley of the theft of the boat and the gun.

"Won't you let him go?" he pleaded. "It's all a mistake. He had nothing to do with stealing those things from the farmer. He was doing all he could to help us."

But Hocker had formed his own opinion after hearing Ned's story, and so had constable Jeffries and Mr. Zinn, the farmer.

"I'm mighty glad to know you lads ain't guilty," said Hocker, "and I ax your pardon for my wrong suspicion. As for this fellow, I ain't so sure about him. I don't doubt that he's really been trying to get you chaps out of a scrape though, and I promise you he'll get full credit for it. Meanwhile we'd better make sure of him—just as a matter of form, you know."

He nodded to Jeffries and the latter slipped a pair of bracelets on Bug's wrists.

Ned was surprised and indignant. He saw no reason for such a step.

"Don't be worried, lad," remarked Hocker soothingly. "He may be turned loose later on. You see I can't afford to let the guilty parties escape after the hard chase they've given me. Why, Jeffries and I have been scourin' all along the creek in a buggy. We happened to strike Zinn's farm this evening, and stopped fur information. Zinn told us he had a man locked up in the smoke house, but when we went to look the fellow was gone.

"I suspected it was the party I wanted, an' knowin' that in that case the boat couldn't be far away, we hurried down to the creek. And it's well we did for your sake as well as mine. The next thing is to rescue the lads and capture the rascal. We had better be quick or he will take alarm and leave the mill."

"Moxley is the fellow's name, is it?" said the farmer. "It has a kind of familiar ring to my ears."

"I know the man," spoke up Jeffries. "Dude Moxley he goes by, but that ain't his real name. He comes from a good family up the valley, and was well educated when a lad. Drink ruined him, and now he's one of the greatest scamps unhung. I know this other chap, too," added the constable. "His folks are sober, respectable people over at the Gap, but he ain't much better than Moxley. We've met more than once before. How is it, my man?"

Bug hung his head but said nothing.

The scene was inexpressibly painful to Ned, and he was greatly relieved when the conversation turned on the rescue of his companions. He little dreamed that the most exciting incidents of this already eventful night were yet to come.

"We had better cross to the neck of land in your boat, Hocker," suggested Zinn. "The plank over that sluiceway makes a lot of racket, and the scoundrel may hear us and slip away."

This happy idea was carried out. The entire party embarked, and landed a moment later about ten yards below the mill. The rain had ceased some time before, and the moon was now peeping through a rift in the scudding clouds.

As the men crept up the stony slope they saw through the gaping crevices of the mill the yellow gleam from Moxley's lantern. Suddenly it vanished, and a creaking noise was hear.

"The rascal is escaping. We must run for it," whispered Hocker. He bounded forward with Jeffries at his heels. Zinn fell behind, leaving Bug in charge.

The men swiftly turned the upper corner of the mill just as the door was slammed and bolted in their faces. Hocker began to kick savagely and wrench the handle.

"That won't do any good," exclaimed Zinn, as he reached the spot. "I made a strong job of that door, and it will take more than a little to break it down. There are plenty of other places that can be forced in."

A brief pause followed, and then a sullen voice issued from behind the door.

"I'll put a hole through the first man that tries to enter this mill. I mean what I say. Dude Moxley ain't to be trifled with."

The men hastily withdrew, first taking the precaution to remove the plank that covered the sluiceway.

"The rascal must have seen us coming up the slope in the moonlight," muttered Hocker. "I suppose he thought we had the place surrounded and every avenue of escape cut off. He's a desperate fellow, and may stand a long siege."

In truth Moxley seemed to be preparing for that very thing. He boldly drew in the shutters of the two windows that the faced the creek, and a moment later he began to roll logs about, evidently fortifying the weak places in the wall.

"That may be only a ruse," said Jeffries. "Is there any way of escape from the other side?"

"Of course there is," exclaimed the farmer. "He can easily drop from the second story window to the foot of the hill. Lend me that empty gun," he added, turning to Ned. "I'll cross the wasteway in the boat and get behind the trees a few yards up the hill. If the rascal attempts to crawl out the window I'll scare him back."

Ned handed over the gun, and the farmer departed in haste. Hocker and Jeffries moved aside and carried on a whispered conversation.

Bug was left to his own devices. He could not escape, for the removal of the plank from the sluiceway made the place literally an island. He sat down on a big stone, with his manacled hands resting on his knees. Ned was restless and heartsick, and the prolonged suspense grew more intolerable every moment. He was afraid that Moxley would vent his anger on the boys, and perhaps do them an injury.

Hocker divined the lad's thoughts.

"Don't be downhearted," he said. "Your friends are safe enough. The scoundrel won't dare to hurt them. By and by, if the siege threatens to last, we'll find a way to get them out of the mill."

"I hope you will succeed," said Ned. "It's hard to tell what that ruffian will do. And none of us have had anything to eat since last evening at supper time."

Hocker was thunderstruck on hearing this, and hastily produced a double handful of crackers from the capacious pocket of his coat.

"That will take the edge off your hunger," he said. "I bought them at a country store as we drove by this morning. When Zinn's hired man comes down to see where his master is—as he surely will before long—I'll send him back for food. If we can't get your friends out of the mill we can at least send them something to eat through that loose board. By means of the boat one of us can climb into the rafters."

This plan seemed feasible, and Ned felt no compunctions about eating the crackers. Nothing had ever tasted so good to him before.

Meanwhile Hocker and Jeffries had been quietly holding another consultation, and now the latter advanced to the side of the mill.

"Moxley," he called in a loud voice, "if you know what's best for you, you will quietly hand out that gun, and deliver yourself up. The more trouble you give us, the harder it will be for you in the end. You can't possibly escape, and your capture is only a question of time. We are well armed, and won't stand any fooling. Come out now and we'll make it as easy for you as possible."

There was a brief pause, and then creaking footsteps were heart as Moxley approached the wall.

"You can talk all night," he shouted hoarsely, "but it won't do any good. Don't you come too close, Bill Jeffries, or I might draw a bead on you. We have more than one old score to settle. As for getting me out of here, you and ten like you can't do it. I have plenty of ammunition and plenty to eat, and this place will hold me as long as I want to stay. You can't take me inside of a week. I have four prisoners in here, and not a mouthful of food will they get, not a sup of water, as long as you fellows are prowling around. I mean what I say, Jeffries, and you know it. For your own good I warn you to get out of this. I'll shoot the first man that enters the mill."

To enforce this hostile declaration Moxley thrust the muzzle of his gun through a crevice, and Jeffries hastily retreated.