their chums, being unarmed, were obliged to watch from the shelter of the grove, because they realized that there would probably be gunfire.
The men began to make their way across the open space, running from rock to rock, keeping well scattered, all eying the entrance to the cave.
Suddenly, a shot sounded from the cave entrance. Almost simultaneously one of the revenue men fired. The boys had seen no one in the cave but the keen eyes of the rifleman had, and when the body of a man slumped forward out of the cave, falling on the rocks, with a revolver clattering from his nerveless fingers, his judgment was verified.
And this, to the disappointment of the watchers, was the end of the fight. For the gangsters, like so many of their kind, were cowardly and they became unnerved at the fate of the first of their men who had shown fight.
Out of the cave entrance came a man bearing aloft a white handkerchief in token of surrender. He was followed by the others, with hands upraised, and behind them came Chet Morton and Biff Hooper, their wrists still bound, but their faces alight with joy, in contrast to the surly visages of the gangsters.
"Well, well!" declared the officer in charge, as he confronted the rascals, noting the frown-
