"See anything of the convict?" asked Steve, upon whom that idea seemed
to have taken a decided hold.

Max shook his head in the negative.

"Have you been up to that cabin again?" asked Owen, suspiciously.

"I suppose I might as well tell you that I've laid a little plan that,
if it only turns out well, may bag the unknown visitor we had last
night," Max confessed. "You see, when we were up there the other day, I
noticed that old as it was, the cabin was as strong as anything. If a
fellow could only slip up, and shoot a bar across the door in any way
after _some one_ went inside, it'd be dollars to doughnuts he'd find the
chap there in the morning."

"And when would you do all this fine slipping-up business?" asked Steve.

"I'm going there again to-night," Max continued, positively; "and lie
around to see what happens. And none of you need say a single word,
because you don't come along with me. When I've managed to secure that
door as I've arranged for, it'll be time enough to let you know about
it. Forget it now, boys; and let's talk about supper."

Bandy-legs stared hard at Max, as though he could not believe his ears.
That anyone would dare venture all the way up to that strange cabin in
the darkness of the night, and even try and capture the desperate
ruffian whom they now believed to be an escaped convict, amazed him.

Sure enough, that night, about the time the boys under ordinary
conditions would be thinking of seeking their blankets, Max quietly took