"Hello! there, my friend; if you start to run, I'm going to fill you full of shot; so don't you dare try it!" Jack suddenly remarked, in a clear voice.
Up bobbed other heads near by, as these words awoke some of the sleepers.
"Keep still, boys, and don't get in my way," said Jack, calmly. "I've got a thief covered, and expect to bring him down if he so much as takes one jump. Easy now, Herb; keep your gun ready, and don't shoot until I say so."
For all he talked so threateningly, of course Jack would have done no such thing had the fellow bolted. Better lose a thousand ducks than have cause to regret hasty action. But it seemed that his bold words had the effect he wanted; for the shadowy figure continued to hug the ground in the spot where the oven lay.
"Don't yuh shoot me, Mistah!" a quavering voice now broke out; and immediately they understood that the intended spoiler of their breakfast must be a negro. "I ain't 'tendin' tuh run away, 'deed I ain't, sah. I gives mahself up. I ain't eben gut a knife 'long with me!"
"Yes, I'm on deck, all right; what is it?" replied the tall boy, close by.
"You fixed some stuff for starting a fire in a hurry, didn't you?" continued Jack.
"Sure I did; and it's right here beside me," Josh hastened to reply.
"Then strike a match, and let's have some light. We'll look this coon over, and see whether we want to take him down to Franklin City with us tomorrow, or give him some grub and let him go scot free."
Jack was looked upon as a leader by his chums, and when he received these instructions Josh never hesitated a second about starting to carry them out to the letter.
Scratch went his match, which he always kept handy, being the recognized _chef_ of the expedition. Then the light wood flamed up, communicated with other stuff, and in a "jiffy," as Josh called it, the scene was illuminated.
Meanwhile Jack had climbed out from among the folds of his blanket, always keeping his shotgun leveled in the direction of the crouching figure of the detected marauder of their stores.
He found a badly frightened negro, rather a young fellow, and as black as tar. The whites of his eyes looked staring as he followed the movements of that threatening gun, every time Jack moved.
