“Put him together again, Swan, and we will go on and pay our respects to Jake Coyle,” continued the officer. “It is possible that he intends to return the money and claim the reward. If he does—”
“Don’t fool yourself,” said Mr. Swan, with a laugh. “If Jake ran into that snag on purpose, he did it with the intention of fishing up that money and keeping it. He can’t claim the reward, for there is a warrant out for him. He helped to steal this canvas canoe.”
Having tied me together with the rope, Mr. Swan raised me to his shoulder, ordered the guides to stop talking, and the entire posse set off through the woods in the direction of the hatchery. As they drew near to it they spread out right and left, forming a sort of skirmish line which was so long that those on the flanks were out of sight of one another, and in this order moved forward with increased caution. The sheriff and Mr. Swan remained in the center with the two prisoners, the latter holding me in one hand and a revolver in the other. The officer consulted his watch very frequently, and at the end of ten minutes moved out of the bushes to the “carry,” followed by Mr. Swan and the captives. Then I understood the meaning of this maneuver. The sheriff’s object was to surround Rube’s cabin and capture the inmates.
As soon as he reached the “carry” the sheriff gave a shrill whistle and ran forward at the top of his speed, leaving the guide to follow with the prisoners. When we came within sight of the cabin a few minutes later I saw the entire posse gathered around it, and the sheriff and Rube standing in the doorway, the latter rubbing his eyes as if he had just been aroused from a sound sleep.
“Sold again,” said the officer, as Mr. Swan came up.
“There, now!” exclaimed the guide, who was profoundly astonished. “Well, I told you that Matt was a sly old fox, and that you’d have to be mighty sly yourself if you caught him. The young ones are chips of the old block, and can dodge about in the woods like so many partridges. How did he find out that we were coming, do you reckon?”
“That’s a mystery,” answered the sheriff.
I could have told him that it was no mystery to me. The officer and his posse had made a good deal of noise in coming through the woods, and of course Matt Coyle heard them long before they came in sight. Knowing that they would have to go to the hatchery in order to procure boats to cross the outlet, he took to his heels in short order, made the best of his way to the cabin, and started his family off into the woods. That was all there was of it, but it proved the truth of the remark Mr. Swan once made in Joe Wayring’s hearing—that Matt Coyle always had luck on his side. The fugitives did not awaken Rube, for they knew that he had nothing to fear from the officers of the law. I had often wondered what sort of a game the watchman was up to (I was as sure that he was playing a part as Matt was), and now I was given some insight into it.