"It's a job for a judge and a jury." "Then I'm to be a prisoner ?" "That's for the policeman here to say." "You're a prisoner, my man," nodded the policeman.

"Now, sail your boat into the landing over yonder." "Some one else will sail it," retorted the skipper, angrily, as he abandoned his tiller.
"I'll take the tiller," Harry suggested, and did so.

He hauled in the sheet, brought the boat around and headed for the landing with the skill of an old sailor.
"My man, since you don't want to sail the boat you'll have to go as a real prisoner," announced the policeman.

He produced a pair of handcuffs, snapping them over the man's wrists.
In a short time Harry brought the sailboat up to the landing.

The motor boat had followed, but did not come all the way in.