"What can we do, Phil?"
As Larry put this question he looked mournfully at his chum, and tried to keep from shivering, though it was indeed hard work.
The night had passed. Both boys had been allowed a chance to secure some sleep, having been placed in an empty shanty; but as neither of them dared lie down on the straw that formed a rude couch on the board floor, they were compelled to "snatch a few winks," as Larry termed it, sitting up.
In the morning they had been fed, after a fashion. Larry bemoaned the fact that while he had to partake of the unsavory mess or go hungry, all that fine "grub" was going to waste on the Aurora, not more than a mile away.
Phil did not show the anxiety he felt. Since coming into personal contact with the terrible McGee he had lost some of the enthusiasm and confidence that had up to then marked his actions. The leader of the squatter clan was so much more formidable than he had anticipated, that Phil himself began to fear his mission was doomed to be a failure.
It was a serious outlook they faced, particularly Phil. They might allow Larry to get off scot free, since he was not a Lancing, and looked so innocent of any wrong intent; but with Phil the matter was different.
What if the stubborn giant utterly refused to believe the good intentions of the new owner of the cypress swamp lands? What if he felt convinced that it was all a sly trick; and that the millionaire had sent his son down simply to take notes, in order that presently the sheriff, backed by the State troops, could enforce the edict of eviction?
Phil always put that idea away from his mind when it tried to force itself upon him. And yet from every hand he had heard that McGee was a most determined man, who, having conceived a thing, could not be changed. Even his own wife and son had said that about him.
And so, still hoping for the best, Phil now turned toward his troubled chum, with a forced smile on his face.
"Nothing much, I guess, Larry; only wait for a chance to talk again with McGee," he replied, cheerily.
"But the morning is passing, and he doesn't seem to want to see you at all," complained the other.
"But sooner or later he will, you mark me," answered the positive one, wishing to ease the strain he knew was on Larry's poor mind.
"But you told his wife what sort of message you carried," Larry went on, his voice dejected enough to imagine him at a funeral; "and sure she must have managed to let him know, because she promised to do all she could."
"That's what I'm banking on," Phil continued. "She must have more or less influence with McGee. He is proud of her education; and wants his children to follow after her, and not be raised as ignorant as himself. So perhaps the leaven in the lump will work. Only when he gets one of his pig-headed streaks on, nobody in the world can influence him, Tony admits."
"Poor Tony looked so mournful when he brought in our breakfast; I felt bluer than ever just to see him," remarked Larry.
"Yes, the boy is really fond of us," Phil declared, with conviction in his tone. "He can see further than his obstinate dad, and knows the golden opportunity for a future is now in the grasp of McGee. He dreads the result of passion blinding his father to everything else."
"So do I," asserted Larry, briskly. "I can't help thinking of what Tony said about making that sheriff into a bird! What if they take a notion to do us that way. Just imagine me with a nasty, sticky coat of black tar; and then covered with downy feathers! Oh, my goodness! Phil, however would I get it off again? Every inch of skin would come with it."
"Well, don't get cold feet, Larry, whatever you do," remarked his chum; though the gruesome picture Larry drew made him shut his teeth hard together, and turn a trifle pale. "I'm in hopes that, no matter what they do to me, they'll let you off, because you're not concerned in this matter at all."
"Ain't I?" cried Larry, indignantly. "I'm your chum, I guess; and what's good enough for you is ditto for me. If they hand you a new coat, think I'm going to let 'em skip me in the bargain sale? Not for Joseph! Not for a minute! Sink or swim, survive or perish, we're pards, you and me, Phil. If you can stand it, sure I ought to; and that's flat!"
Phil stretched out his hand, and squeezed that of his comrade. At any rate it was worth something just to learn how loyal a chum he had; though perhaps he might have fancied some other way of ascertaining the fact.
"Seems to me there's a whole lot of excitement going on outside there!" remarked Larry, suspiciously, some time later. "And I'm going to try and see if I c'n get a squint at the same. Perhaps this is a holiday for the McGees. Perhaps they're bent on having high jinks because they expect to feast on that nice supply of civilized grub in our motor boat. Oh! won't I just be glad if ever we get back to decent living again. Hoe cake baked in ashes may be filling; but it don't strike me just in the right spot; and especially after I've seen the old woman who cooked it, too. Ugh!"
Grumbling in this fashion Larry proceeded to climb up to the little window that seemed to be at some distance from the floor; and which made Phil believe this particular shanty must have originally been intended for a prison of some sort.
A minute later a loud exclamation and lament from Larry drew his attention.
"What's all the row?" he demanded, his own curiosity aroused.
"Oh! if you could only see what they're doing, Phil?" groaned the clinging one, as he still stared out of the small opening through which the outside air reached the captives of the squatter tribe.
"Suppose you tell me, then?" suggested Phil, promptly enough.
"Don't you believe these shingle-makers down here may have just a little touch of Injun blood in their veins?" demanded Larry. "Because, as sure as anything, they're driving two big stakes right into the ground out here—two of 'em, do you understand, Phil? And the kids are a-dancin' around like the very old Harry; just like Injuns might do when they expected to burn a prisoner at the stake!"
"What!" cried Phil, staggered at first; and then incredulous at the strange assertion of his chum, he too started to climb up the rough log wall so as to reach the window opening.
"There, look for yourself, Chum Phil!" gasped Larry, as the other joined him. "I just felt it in my bones I would come to some bad end. But, oh! what would my poor mother think if she knew her boy was going to be a candle, a torch!"
"Oh, shucks! Larry, don't you believe that sort of stuff!" Phil declared, even though it did look very significant to see those twin stakes being driven into the ground, with a crowd of ragged and barefooted youngsters showing savage delight, as keen as though a circus had come to town.
"Then what are they meaning to do with those stakes?" demanded Larry.
"Oh! well, that's hard to say," stammered Phil. "Perhaps they do expect to fix us up there, just for a frolic, and have some fun with us. But even McGee, ugly as he is, wouldn't dream of burning anybody at the stake!"
"All right then, it's the other thing," said Larry. "Just look at what they're luggin' over now, and tell me if you can, what it is."
When the industrious bunch of half-grown boys opened up enough for Phil to get a glimpse of the heavy object that engaged their attention, he could not keep from uttering an exclamation of chagrin.
"See, you know just as well as I do that it's a sure melting pot for tar!" exclaimed Larry, hoarsely. "Anybody with one eye could see that, because there's tar all over it. Guess they use it with some of their boats. And Phil, look at that old hag toting that awful bag on her head. What d'ye suppose is in that but geese feathers as old as the hills! Oh, murder! we're up against it good and hard. I can almost feel my wings beginning to sprout right now!"
"Hold on, Larry," Phil remarked. "It looks like they meant to scare us, and have a little fun at our expense; but that doesn't mean they'll go through the whole performance. Give me a chance to spring my father's letter on McGee, and see what it does to him. Why, he would have to be next door to crazy to refuse such a magnificent offer to go into partnership with the man who owns these lands; for that's about what it means in the end."
"But they say he is nigh crazy when he gets one of his stubborn fits on!" declared the other, dejectedly. "He just can't see anything else but the one thing that's on his mind. And right now, Phil, that's the fact of his having in his power the only son of the man he hates like poison. Besides, you told me he said he couldn't read a word; so how's he goin' to know that the letter says what you declare it does?"
Phil had himself thought of that.
"His wife could read it for him, or perhaps even Tony," he said.
"Aw! d'ye think a suspicious man like McGee would trust either of 'em in a matter like this? Not for a minute, Phil. He'd think they might be fooling him, just to save us from getting our downy coats. Try something else, please."
"Tony said there was one old fellow in the settlement who could read," observed Phil, thoughtfully. "Don't you remember he told us a queer story about old Daddy Mixer, who seems to be some sort of natural doctor among these people, and comes by his name from mixing all sorts of herbs as medicine. He can read; and besides, McGee would believe him where he mightn't his own family."
"Say, that's so!" exclaimed Larry, looking decidedly interested. "And you could ask to have him read it out loud, so everybody might hear the generous offer your good dad makes to every man, woman and child now living on his lands down here. Oh! perhaps it might sweep the crowd off their feet. Don't I hope now it does that same thing. I ain't yearning for a new suit of down one little bit."
"It may please the ragtag and bobtail crowd from the ground up," said Phil soberly; "but you take it from me, Larry, unless McGee himself is convinced, there's nothing doing. He's the Great Mogul of this place, the PooBah of the swamp settlement. When he takes snuff they all sneeze. He holds all the offices; and not a man-jack of them dares to say a word, when McGee holds up his finger. He rules with a rod of iron. So it is McGee alone I'm hoping to convince. That done, the others will fall in line, just like knocking down a row of bricks."
"There he is now, with a lot of the men around him. They keep looking over this way, Phil, like they were talking about us."
"And I guess that's what they're doing," remarked the other, as he watched the gesticulating group a minute. "I wonder, now, has Tony's mother spread the news far and wide among the other women of the village? What if they've already scented the glorious chance to get the things they've just wanted all their lives? And each woman may have been laying down the law to her man! Yes, they seem to be arguing about something or other, for most of 'em look sour or disgruntled."
"But just notice McGee, would you?" sighed Larry. "He looks as black as thunder when he speaks first to one and then to another. They're dead afraid of him, that's what! They've had their say, and he's put a damper on it all. See him shake his fist at that fellow; and how he cringes like a whipped cur! Oh! Phil, whatever did you come down here to try and do anything for that terrible tyrant?"
But Phil shook his head, as though not yet wholly convinced that he had made a serious blunder in undertaking the trip.
"There is a heap of good in that man," he declared between his set teeth; "if only one could get under his tough hide. I'm still hoping the letter will strike home with him, Larry. Don't lose all hope yet!"
"But if it doesn't, we're in a bad box, Phil," said Larry, despairingly.
"Looks like it," Phil admitted, grimly. "But anyhow, we're not going to be kept in suspense long, for he's sending a couple of fellows this way; and it must be they mean to take us out."
Larry drew a long breath, and slipped down from his perch, looking very pale.
The door of the shanty opened presently, and the two squatters stood there.
"Yer tuh kim out, kids; McGee wants yuh!" said one of the pair of brawny shingle-makers beckoning with his finger.
Phil was eagerly scanning their faces. He wanted to know whether his theory of the actual conditions existing in the squatter village might be founded on facts. And from what he saw he believed that it was even so.
Both men looked anything but hostile, as they faced the prisoners. Indeed, unless Phil was very much mistaken, he could detect even a gleam of friendliness in the countenance of the fellow who had spoken.
"McGee's wife has spread the story among the women," he thought; "and it has taken with them like wildfire. In turn they have talked with their men about the wonderful things that would happen, if they chose to change their ways of living, and accepted my father's offer to get steady jobs, and land of their very own. But unless he falls in with the scheme, it's all wasted. They just don't dare call their souls their own down here. And a mutiny is the last thing they'd ever think of starting. Still, when a woman makes up her mind, sometimes she'll find a way to do things."
In this fashion then he tried to bolster up his slipping courage, as he fell in behind the two men, and marched out of the shanty prison. Larry trotted along in the rear; for Phil purposely refrained from slipping his arm in that of his chum; wishing to make it appear that Larry at least was innocent of wrongdoing, and should not be made to suffer.
Had the other boy dreamed that this was his reason for preceding him he would never have allowed it; but so many things were knocking at Larry's brain door he just could not grasp the situation fully, and believed that Phil might have for the minute forgotten all about him.
There was a hush as the two boys came into view. Every eye seemed to be turned toward them; and Phil felt positive that the entire population of Swamptown must be congregated there in the center of the place—men, women and children, down to the babes in arms.
A motley crowd they seemed; and yet not a hostile one, he believed, as he swept a hungry glance around—an anxious look, born of extremity.
The men in the main looked rather hangdog, as though ashamed of the part they must play in the affair, because of their domination by the savage McGee giant. As for the slatternly women, Phil really believed he could see lines of worry on many faces; as if they feared that the best chance that had ever come their way were fated to be cast aside, just through the obstinacy of one man, and he the McGee.
The younger element alone appeared to look upon the occasion as a picnic especially arranged for their benefit. They grinned, and nudged each other, and seemed ready to back the leader up in any desperate plan he might see fit to carry out.
McGee stood there, with his arms folded across his massive chest. As he drew closer to the giant Phil wondered after all whether he might not have injured his cause by thus setting the balance of the camp against the man who had been leader all these years, by virtue of his brute strength, and his commanding ways.
McGee looked at him with a black scowl on his heavy face. His wife and Tony were near by, both of them white-faced and anxious; as though fearful lest after all the man's natural obstinacy was about to bring ruin upon their newborn hopes.
Phil stood directly in front of the big man. He tried to meet his piercing gaze frankly and steadily, yet not arouse his passion further by a display of bravado.
As for Larry, he kept as near his chum as possible, listening, and hoping for good news, yet fearing the worst. Every time his eyes were drawn toward the twin stakes, against his will as it seemed, he would shudder, and shut his teeth hard together, as though suffering dreadfully. Yet Larry was inwardly determined not to show the white feather if he could help it.
"Younker," said McGee, in his deep voice that seemed so in keeping with his tremendous physique; "yuh admits as how yer the boy uh Doc. Lancing, don't yuh?"
"Why, yes," Phil replied, as pleasantly as he could, yet with firmness. "I told you right in the start that was a fact; and also why I had chosen to voyage down this river instead of choosing the Suwanee. It was to meet you, McGee; to shake hands with you; and let you see a letter my father had given to me. I told you I came in peace, and with a white flag of truce; I said my father wanted to be the friend of every man, woman and child on these lands; and was ready to enter into a contract with you all, binding himself to almost your own terms. That's why I'm here, McGee. That's why I made no attempt to run when you and your men came. I expected that you would treat me just as messengers are always treated in war times, when they come under the white flag of truce."
"An' yuh sped me tuh believe all thet?" demanded the giant.
"I hoped you would, McGee," replied Phil. "We helped your boy Tony before we even knew that he was a McGee; and after we found it out, it made us like him all the more. My father wants you to be his friend, to enter into a new arrangement that will mean plenty of money for you all, and homes that the law can never take away from you. It means the highest wages paid in the lumber business to every man willing to work with him. He wants to develop this country, and knows he can only do it with your help. McGee, here is my father's letter! Won't you have it read out loud, so everybody can hear what a fine man Doctor Lancing really is?"
McGee gingerly accepted the missive Phil took from an inner pocket. His face was still as black as a thundercloud. He had heard the low murmurs of approval that sprang from the lips of some of those near by, possibly the women, who were not quite as much in fear of the lord of the squatter camp as the men. And it angered McGee to think that his authority was questioned in the least.
"Yuh knows right well, younker, as how I cain't read!" he declared.
"Then let some one else read it out—perhaps your wife?" suggested Phil, eagerly.
The giant looked toward his wife, and she even started toward him, only too anxious to accept the opportunity; but with a sneer on his face he waved her back.
"Not on yer life, Molly," he snapped. "I knows wot yuh ben talkin' 'bout lately. Yuh wudn't stop at deceivin' yuh husband one minit. Nor yuh either, Tony. Yuh gotter eatin' the bread uh Doc. Lancing on board thet gimcrack boat, an' ain't tuh be depended on."
He looked around, and then beckoned to an old, decrepit fellow, whom Phil realized must be the "medicine man" of the colony, Daddy Mixer.
"Kim hyar, Daddy," said McGee, with a curt nod; and the old fellow hastened to obey, only too eager to find favor in the sight of the ruler. "Take this hyar paper, an' look her over. Tell me wot hit sez, d'ye mind, an' on'y that, if yuh know wots good foh yuh, Daddy."
The wizened-up specimen of an ague-shaken squatter took the letter in a hand that trembled; and his eyes eagerly passed over the same. It was fortunately done on a typewriter, so that the sentences were as clear as print; and at the end was signed the name of Doctor Gideon Lancing.
"Kin yuh read it?" demanded McGee, grimly.
"I a'ready done it," replied the old man; who had possibly long years ago been given the chance for a schooling.
"An' does hit state jest wot the younker sed?" went on the giant; while Phil and Larry and all within hearing hung on his words.
"It does jest that, McGee. It tells as how the writer he wants ter hold out the olive branch o' peace to the settlers on his lands. He goes on to say as how he offers every fambly an acre, or as much more as they wants, for ther really own, the deed to the same to be delivered over to 'em without a cent o' charge!"
A murmuring sound of approval went up from the listeners. But all eyes were glued on the figure of McGee, whom they knew full well held their destinies in the hollow of his hand.
"Thet all?" demanded the giant, grimly.
"No, not quite, McGee," replied Daddy Mixer, hastily and pathetically. "He sez as how he wants to develop this country into a lumber region, and must have the help of the McGees. So he promises to pay wages as high as any in the State, and give full work every day in the year to every man or boy willing to enter his employ. And he winds up by saying he's gwine to come down here right soon hisself, to meet you-all, and fix up things just to suit everybody!"
Some one started to shout. It was an unfortunate move, for instantly the black look on the heavy face of McGee grew more gloomy. He raised his hand.
"Stop thet!" he roared, furiously. "Yuh pore fools, d'ye believe all this lyin' stuff thet Doc. Lancing has writ, jest tuh pull the wool over our eyes? It cain't be did! He's sure got sum slick trick up his sleeve. These younkers hes been sent down tuh find out all 'bout us; an' the sojers'll be along on ther heels tuh clar us out! I ain't gwine tuh take up wid no sech trash as thet. We gotter show Doc. Lancing we don't keer a mite foh his white flag. This hyah's his boy. Now we gat him weuns is bound tuh send him away wid the nicest coat o' tar an' feathers yuh ever heard tell on. That's my answer tuh Doc. Lancing, an' it goes, yuh hyah, men!"
Larry uttered a loud groan; and it seemed as though others among the listeners felt as down-spirited as did the Northern lad, to judge from the sighs around.
But right then and there, in the midst of all the tense excitement, there suddenly rang out a shot; followed by a scream from the lips of Tony McGee, who was seen darting forward to where a fluttering object lay struggling on the ground.
"Oh! what was that? Who shot?" cried Larry, clutching his chum by the arm.
Phil pointed to a small boy who was trying to sneak away, carrying an old musket about half again as long as himself. He had possibly taken advantage of the excitement to steal his elder brother's gun; and casting about for some object upon which to exercise his ambitious marksmanship, had sighted a hovering bird, which had instantly fallen to his fire.
"But what makes Tony act like that?" demanded Larry.
Phil had divined the wonderful truth, even as his chum made his inquiry.
"It must have been one of his homing pigeons!" he exclaimed; "perhaps the one that he expected to bring him news from up-river way, about the girl in the hospital!"
"Oh! I wonder could that be so?" ejaculated Larry; and the two of them stood there, watching and waiting for they hardly knew what, only that into Phil's heart there seemed to have suddenly leaped a new and wild hope.
They saw Tony lift the little feathered messenger, and stroke its feathers, as he looked angrily around for the guilty youngster, who was already hiding behind one of the shanties.
"Look and see if it has a message from Tom Badger!" called Phil, himself quivering with eagerness and suspense.
Tony evidently had not thought of this at first, in his anger at having one of his precious pets slaughtered so ruthlessly. He sent a quick comprehending look toward his new chums, and instantly turned his attention again to the pigeon.
Immediately Phil saw him draw some small object from the bundle of crumpled feathers, which he began to unroll with great haste.
"It's a note from above," declared Phil, talking to himself, though Larry was listening with both ears to what he said. "The message has come, and just in the nick of time to save us from a mighty unpleasant experience. I hope it holds good news for Tony and his mother."
"It does—it must, Phil!" cried Larry. "Just look at Tony dancing around, would you? Oh! he's read something that's taken his voice away, you know! He can't even say anything; but see how his face talks! Phil, what d'ye think it can be?"
"Good news must mean the operation has taken place, and that it has been a success!" replied his chum, trying to master the tremor in his own voice, and hardly succeeding very well. "And can't you see just what that must mean for us, Larry, old fellow? Bring it here, Tony! Let us see what you have found!" and he beckoned to the boy while saying this.
But Tony made first of all for his mother, who was standing there with clasped hands, in an agony betwixt doubt and hope. No sooner though, had her eager eyes devoured the contents of the tiny paper, than she fell to sobbing hysterically; but every one could see that it was joy and not grief that had caused this flow of tears from an overcharged heart.
She started toward McGee, holding out the bit of thin paper appealingly. McGee had been observing these several happenings with the same dark scowl on his brow; but he seemed to understand that news had come from the child who was so dear to him on account of her infirmity.
"Give hit tuh Daddy, an' let hin read hit!" he spoke up, as though even in that supreme moment something of the old doubt concerning his family remained.
Gladly did the woman turn to the shambling old man who came forward again. And as he bent over the tiny scrap of paper, as though endeavoring to make out what the writing on it meant, every sound ceased until the silence of death seemed to hover over that scene.
"Read hit out loud, Daddy!" commanded McGee, himself hardly able to restrain his own impatience.
"Operation a complete success! Child will soon see as well as any one! Shall bring her home myself tomorrow, and restore her to a mother's arms.
"DOCTOR GIDEON LANCING!"
Hardly had the last word been uttered than it seemed as though a tempest had suddenly descended upon that quiet little settlement in the midst of the cypress swamps. Every throat joined in the terrific shout that burst forth. Women threw their arms around one another; while rough men went about shaking hands, and wiping suspicious moisture from their sun-burned cheeks.
Phil and Larry whooped with the rest.
"It's all right, Larry!" cried the former, as he wrung his chum's hand with the vehemence of enthusiastic youth. "That's the last straw that breaks the camel's back! Even a McGee can't hold out against that evidence of friendship! Hurrah for my dad; and hurrah for us! But I say, Larry, it's lucky that poor little pigeon found its way home when it did, or we might have been turned into birds ourselves."
Even Larry could afford to laugh now at the heretofore gruesome outlook. As for Tony, he acted like one possessed; for he ran from his mother to his new chums, and back again; still gripping the lifeless form of the little winged messenger, as though he hardly knew what he was doing.
McGee had gone over to his wife, and taken her in his arms. The glorious news from above had done more to break down his iron nature than all other things combined; nor was Phil very much amazed to see how tenderly he soothed the mother of his children.
Then the big man strode over toward the spot where they stood; while every one watched curiously to see what he would do, for never yet had a man of them ever seen the mighty McGee bend the knee to any one.
"Gimme yuh hand, younker," he said, humbly enough. "I war all wrong, an' I admits hit right now an' hyah. Yuh dad he's jest a trump; an' w'en he kims tuh weuns' camp, thar ain't gwine tuh be a king welcomed more heartily'n he'll be. An' Tony boy, don't yuh do nawthin' tuh thet chile as shooted yuh bird, d'ye hyah? Ef 'twa'nt foh thet, jest see wot I'd a-done tuh the son o' the man as hes brought light tuh the blessed eyes o' our leetle Madge."
Again the shouts broke out. The entire settlement was mad with joy. Women got together and talked of the wonderful things that were going to come to pass when this benefactor fulfilled his promises, and their homes became a positive fact, with their men working every day at big wages, and a new life possessing the entire community.
Relieved from a terrible strain Phil and Larry began to take an interest in the many things connected with the squatter settlement. McGee, having thrown off his gloomy condition in the light of the happy news, showed that he was a keensighted man. He talked business with Phil in a way that quite pleased the boy; who felt positive that his father would find in this leading spirit of the swamp country just the able lieutenant he wanted, in order to make a big success of the new undertaking.
Of course the motor boat was soon brought down from its station above. Tony and his father accompanied the two voyagers up to get it; and McGee manifested considerable interest in the working of the smart little craft.
And then when on the third day there arrived a boat containing half a dozen persons, imagine the great joy when that good mother folded to her heart the form of the little child she had sent from her side with such great misgivings.
Of course Phil pounced on his father, the genial physician whose name as an oculist had long since become famous throughout the East. And as rapidly as he could, ably assisted by Larry, he poured out the wonderful story of their cruise, which had been brought to such a dramatic conclusion.
McGee was not long in welcoming Doctor Lancing, and in a day the two men seemed to understand each other thoroughly. Plans for the future were soon under way; and after several days spent among his neighbors, as the doctor termed those who were no longer squatters, since each family owned a tract of land besides that upon which their cabin was built, he again turned his face toward the north.
It might be well to say right here that things began to boom from that day; and at present the community where McGee still holds sway is a prosperous town, with happy homes, in which the comforts of life may be found, as well as a few of the luxuries. Little Madge did positively recover her sight, the bandages being removed before the departure of the great oculist.
Tony went down with Phil and Larry to the gulf, and spent a couple of months in their company that he would never forget. Later on he was given a chance to attend school, and one dream of his mother's heart was realized.
And Larry, too, learned many a useful lesson during that time, which would be apt to help him climb the ladder as an ambitious Boy Scout, once he found himself back in his home city.
Pete had turned up before they left for the gulf; and being supplied with more funds by Doctor Lancing kept on his way. Later on they heard from him in Mobile, where his family had joined him; and neither of the two Dixie Chums ever found reason to regret that they had helped him evade the "dawgs" of the vindictive Southern sheriff.
THE END.