“That’s what it is, sah; a dawg!” said Tony, after listening for a minute.

“Then we must be closer to your people than you thought,” remarked Phil.

“That cain’t be so. My folks never comes up this far. Yuh see, it sorter lies atween the town up yander, an’ our diggin’s,” the swamp boy explained.

“But how about the dog, then?” Phil went on, becoming curious. “Perhaps it might be a party from the up-river settlements, hunting down here?”

Tony nodded, and something like the ghost of a smile crept athwart his sallow face.

“Huntin’? Yes, sah, that’s what it mought be,” he said, quickly. “But it’s game yuh wouldn’t want tuh bag, Phil. Sure enough, they’s coon huntin’; but not the kind that has the bushy striped tail.”

Phil was quick to grasp his meaning.

“Do you think they’re after some fugitive negro? Is that what you mean, Tony?” he demanded; while Larry’s innocent blue eyes began to distend, as they always did when their owner felt surprise or alarm.

“Sure,” Tony asserted, confidently. “I orter know the bay o’ a hound. That dawg is on the trail o’ a runaway convict; an’ yuh see nigh all the chain gang is black.”

They all listened again. Somehow, since learning Tony’s opinion, the sound, as it came welling out of the swamp far away, seemed more gruesome than ever. Phil could easily in imagination picture the scene, with a posse of determined keepers from the convict camp following the lead of dogs held in leash, and chasing after a wretched fugitive, who had somehow managed to get away from bondage in the turpentine pine woods.

“Poor critter!” muttered sympathetic Larry. “He’s only a coon, and perhaps he deserves all he got; but it makes me shiver to think of his being hunted like a wild beast, all the same.”

“Will they get him, do you think, Tony?” asked Phil.

“Don’t know. Most always do, some time. Yuh see a feller as runs away like that ain’t got no gun nor nothin’. How c’n he git anythin’ tuh eat in the swamps? Now, if ‘twas one o’ us, as has always lived thar, we’d be able to set snares an’ ketch game; but a pore ignorant coon don’t know nothin’. Sometimes they jest starves tuh death, rather’n give up.”

“Then they must be treated worse than dogs,” declared Larry; “because no man, white or black, would prefer to lay down and die, to being caught, if he didn’t expect to be terribly punished.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders at that.

“Don’t jest know,” he said; “but I heard folks say as how ’twas a bad place, that turpentine camp, whar the convicts they works out their time. Reckon I done heard the dawgs afore, too.”

“Something familiar about their baying, is there?” queried Phil.

“They sure belongs tuh the sheriff,” Tony declared; “an’ he must a be’n called in by them keepers tuh help hunt this runaway convict.”

“The sheriff, Tony do you mean the same fellow you were telling us about, who dared come to the shingle-makers’ settlement downriver, and was tarred and feathered, or rather ridden on a rail, with a warning that he’d get the other if he ever showed his face there again?”

“Them’s him,” said the swamp boy, with a nod. “His name it’s Barker, an’ he’s a moughty fierce man. But let me tell yuh, he ain’t been nigh our place sence. Cause why, he knowed the McGee allers keeps his word.”

“Do you suppose he’d know you, Tony?” asked Phil.

“Reckons now, as how he would, seein’ as how I had tuh bring him his grub that time he was held in our place. He knowed as I was McGee’s boy.”

“I just asked,” Phil went on, “because it struck me that if we should happen to have a call from Sheriff Barker, it might be best for you to keep out of sight. If he’s the kind of man you say, he might just trump up some kind of a charge in order to carry you back with him. And once they got you in town, there’s Colonel Brashears ready to make a charge against you for licking his cub of a son. How about that, Tony?”

“Reckons as how yuh has struck it ’bout right, sah,” replied the other, uneasily. “This Barker, he’s the sort tuh hold a grudge a long time. It sorter rankled him tuh be rid out o’ the squatter settlement on a rail, an’ he an’ officer o’ the law, with all hands a larfin’ an’ makin’ fun of him. Never seen anybody so tearin’ mad. He swore he’d come back with a company o’ sojers, an’ clean us out. But it’s be’n a heap o’ moons now, sah; an’ I take notice Barker he ain’t never showed up yit.”

“If the runaway negro only knew that, I suppose he’d make straight for your settlement; because he’d be safe there from the sheriff?” suggested Phil.

“That don’t foller, sah,” the swamp boy immediately replied. “We-uns ain’t gwine tuh let all sorts o’ trash settle among us. The McGee ain’t settin’ hisself up ag’in law an’ order. He don’t want no fight with the hull State. More’n a few times they be a ’scaped convict hit our place; but McGee, he wouldn’t allow o’ his stayin’ longer’n tuh git a meal, an’ p’raps an olé gun, so’s he could shoot game. Then he had tuh beat it foh the coast; an’ was told that if he war ever caught inside ten mile o’ our place he’d be give over tuh the sheriff.”

“The baying seems to have stopped, now,” remarked Larry.

“Reckon as how the dawgs has lost the trail,” Tony explained. “Yuh see, they’s so much water around hyah that heaps o’ times even the sharpest nose cain’t keep track o’ a runaway coon. But if so be it’s Barker along with them keepers, he’ll keep agwine to the last minit. He’s a stayer, he is, I tell yuh.”

A little later they prepared to go to sleep. There was ample room for Phil and Larry to make up their primitive beds on the seats of the launch. Arrangements looking to this had been made in the beginning. True, it was always a chance as to whether one of them in turning over while he slept, might not roll off the elevated couch, and bring up at the bottom of the boat; but they provided against this by raising the outer edge of their mattress really a doubled blanket over the seat cushions.

When Tony joined them it was a question just where he might find room to sleep. Not that the swamp boy was at all particular; for he could have snuggled down on deck, or found rest in a sitting posture; for he was used to roughing it.

On the preceding night they had tried having him occupy the bottom of the craft; and it had seemed to work well; but Tony evidently could not breathe freely when stowed away like so much cargo. So he had asked the privilege of taking his blanket, and making himself comfortable on the forward deck.

Thus it happened that his head was not far removed from that of Phil, when the latter stretched himself out on his shelf, with his feet toward the stern.

Larry was already breathing heavily, for he had the happy faculty, which Phil often envied, of going to sleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. Nor in making use of this word is reference made to some time in the past, when the two young cruisers were at home in their comfortable beds. Each of them owned a rubber pillow, which on being inflated, afforded an easy headrest; and during the day took up very little room, the air being allowed to escape in the morning.

On the first night out Larry had disdained to follow the example of his more experienced chum, who had covered his rubber pillow with a towel. Consequently Larry found that his face burned and itched all day, from the drawing effect of the bare rubber; and on this occasion Phil noted with secret satisfaction that the other was very particular to emulate his example. Experience is the best guide; and Larry would never forget the unpleasant sensation he had endured because of declining to take pattern from the actions of the “one who knew.”

The last thing Phil remembered hearing ere he went to sleep was that concert from the neighboring swamp. The alligator bull had started in to bellow again, as though pleading with some rival to come around and try conclusions; and the sound was very strange, surrounded as they were by such a wilderness.

Accustomed as he was to a delightful hair mattress, of course Phil would have found it rather hard to have only a doubled blanket between the boards and himself, as Tony was doing; while he and Larry enjoyed the benefit of the cushions with which the side seats of the launch were furnished; and which, being covered with panasote, were supposed to act as life preservers should they be cast into the water. But Tony never minded it in the least. He assured them he had many times slept comfortably, perched on the limb of a tree.

Still, Phil was a light sleeper. While his chum might never awaken once during a night, Phil generally turned over every hour or so. And he had fallen into the habit, so general among old campers, of raising his head and taking an observation at such times.

Finding all well, he would lie back again, and fall into a new sleep.

He remembered doing this at least twice on this night in question. Each time it seemed to him that all was well. He could hear the various noises coming out of the swamp, and forming such a weird chorus; but they signified nothing in the way of peril. And by degrees Phil was growing accustomed to listening to the strange conglomeration.

A third time he awoke, and it struck him instantly that on this occasion he had not come out of his sleep wholly of his own accord. Something seemed to be pulling at him it would stop for a few seconds only to go on again, and Phil noted that this tugging was wholly confined to the shoulder of his coat, which he had not discarded when he lay down, as the night air was cool.

At first a thrill passed through him. Possibly he remembered that bull ’gator with the hoarse bellow; or bethought him of certain yellow moccasin snakes Larry had noticed in the water of the stream, coming from the swamp, no doubt.

Then something touched his face, tapping him gently. Instinctively he put up his hand, and immediately felt fingers. Why, it must be Tony! Had the other thrown his arm up while sleeping, and in this way managed to arouse him; or was his action intentional?

Phil was just trying to decide which it could be, when a sound came to his ear that caused his heart to almost stop beating for a brief period; some one or some animal was certainly creeping under the curtains of the motor boat, seeking to enter!