It was certainly a time for prompt action.

Phil Lancing had leaped to his feet at the first cry from his chum. When he saw that tremendous snout thrust up out of the water he felt a thrill. This changed from alarm to horror when unfortunate and clumsy Larry, tripping in his excitement over the side, struck the water with a tremendous splash, not far from the aroused alligator.

During the day just passed Tony had been giving them more or less interesting facts connected with the ugly saurians that had their usual abode in the cypress swamps. Of course, as the lad had been born and raised amid such surroundings, he was familiar with most of the humors of the scaly reptiles; and had himself been engaged in numerous adventures with them in times past.

He had even told with infinite gusto of an occasion where on a dare he had jumped astride the back of a big bull that was caught in a lagoon, and ridden him to and fro for the space of five moments, despite his bellowing and the angry lashing of his active tail.

Naturally, then, these things all seemed to flash before the mind of Phil in that one dreadful second as he stood there, and saw his chum floundering in the river, not ten feet from the ugly teeth of the ’gator.

Larry had somehow managed to seize upon a dangling rope end. It must have been by the merest chance in the world that this came about; but having once clutched this life preserver he held on with a desperate grip.

Meanwhile, he seemed to understand that he was in dangerous closeness to that aroused and angry reptile which his setting pole had prodded. While holding on for dear life Larry was exercising all the agility of a gymnast in a mad effort to do a little rope climbing.

That was where his lack of form told heavily against him. Strive as he would, and spurred on to redoubled labor by a knowledge of his peril, Larry was utterly unable to accomplish what he had set out to perform. Several times he succeeded in drawing himself up a foot or so, and then would come a fatal slip that knocked his plans “galley-west,” as Phil would have said.

And at such times Larry was bound to go souse into the stream again, grunting; calling out in half muffled tones; and spouting forth quite a cascade of water that had been taken into his open mouth.

Undoubtedly, had Larry’s rescue depended upon himself alone he might have fared badly. He did not seem able to make any headway against the bad run of luck that kept tumbling him back after every effort to rise. And that mossback ’gator, as Tony always called an old fellow, was certainly worked up into a rage which might result in his attacking the struggling boy, despite all his wild floundering and splashing.

Phil of course suddenly remembered that he had it in his power to assist Larry.

His gun!

If only he could manage to hasten to where it had last been seen, he might yet fire a charge, or several for that matter, full into the eyes of the reptile; and at such a short distance it must surely bring the attack to an end.

While it takes quite some time to narrate these things, in reality it all happened within a few seconds, to tell the truth. Usually Phil was exceedingly active in mind, but somehow the affair seemed to have dazzled him just a trifle, so that he found himself unable to decide just where he had last set eyes on the faithful repeating shotgun.

Larry had even made his second furious attempt to climb up the rope, and fallen back again, when Phil discovered the barrel of the gun sticking out from under a bunch of blankets which his chum had tossed aside in trying to get at his fishing tackle.

Just as Phil was in the act of making a dash for the weapon something flashed by him. It was Tony, the swamp boy; and over his shoulder as he leaped he sent back the words:

“I get him, you watch!”

Nevertheless Phil, being accustomed to depending on himself, did not halt in his dash for the gun. No matter how good the intentions of Tony might be there was always more or less danger that a slip could occur; and in case such a calamity did come about, he, Phil, wanted to be in a position to lend a helping hand.

The dangling rope was in reality the loose end of the painter which Larry had fastened to the trunk of the twisted live oak tree growing near the edge of the bank. As the water was quite deep right up alongside the shore Larry found no footing, and was in his haste making a bad job out of what might otherwise have been easy work.

Afterwards, when he figured matters over, Phil realized that he could not have been more than three seconds in making that frantic dive for the gun, snatching it up in his eager hands, and swinging around once more so that he could have a clear view of the water where this excitement was transpiring. And yet at the time it seemed to him as though an hour must have elapsed, so great was the mental strain.

What he saw caused him to stare as though he could hardly believe his eyes; it was all like a strange dream, this actual realization of the story which Tony had been telling them that afternoon.

The alligator bull was still in sight. He had managed to turn about, so that his ugly snout was pointing directly toward the spot where Larry was still kicking and splashing at a terrific rate in his attempt to be a sailor, and climb a rope, something he had possibly never practiced, the more the pity.

How Tony had ever managed to accomplish it in that very short space of time Phil could never guess; but even as he looked he saw the swamp lad astride the back of the angry ’gator, close up to his head.

The saurian was lashing the water into foam. Perhaps he had just managed to get sight of the struggling Larry, and intended to swim straight for him, had not a new and unexpected enemy suddenly taken a hand in the game.

Gripping his gun Phil crouched there on the deck of the motor boat, staring at the little swamp boy. Tony was grinning widely as though he delighted in proving in this practical way how true his remarkable story of the afternoon had been.

And looking, Phil saw him lean quickly forward. He seemed to thrust both hands out, with the thumbs turned down, as though seeking the only vulnerable point about that mail-clad head.

“The eyes he’s trying to stick his thumbs in the ’gator’s little eyes!” gasped the astounded and thrilled watcher.

He no longer thought of attempting to make use of the weapon he held in his own hands. What was the need when Tony had things all his own way? And holding his very breath with awe Phil Lancing watched the bold play of the swamp boy, who had been accustomed to the ways of alligators from infancy.

“He’s done it!” burst from the lips of the one spectator, as a terrific bellow burst from the twelve foot saurian, undoubtedly of pain and rage combined at having his eyes gouged in this fierce manner.

Faster and more violently than ever did that powerful tail thresh the water, until the foam seemed like soap bubbles. Bellow after bellow made the air tremble, or at least pulsate. And amid all this racket the shrill screams of delight on the part of the excited and pleased swamp lad could be heard pealing forth like the notes of a bugle amid the roar of battle.

“Get him up, Phil get him up!”

It was Tony shouting these words, which brought the watcher to his senses. Why, how silly of him to be crouching there, a mere looker-on, when he ought to be having a hand in the matter.

Thinking thus, Phil immediately sprang away. A couple of bounds took him over the side of the launch and ashore. Here, dropping his now useless gun, he bent down alongside the roots of the live oak, which on this side were exposed to the air by the gradually washing away of the soil.

The first thing Phil saw was the agonized face of his chum. It no longer looked rosy, and beaming with good-nature. Larry was genuinely frightened, and as pale as a ghost. The sight of that terrible monster, which he had unwittingly offended with those prods from his push pole, together with his sudden immersion in the water, had given him a shock.

“Reach up your hand, Larry! I’ll give you a pull, and out you come!” Phil cried, as he bent down, and stretched his own willing arm as far down toward the surface of the water as he could.

Larry was only too willing. Indeed, he even let go with both hands, and of course plunged back again into the river, to frantically cry out, and seize once more on the friendly rope-end.

“Careful now! Not so fast, old fellow! Just one hand at a time; and hold on to the rope with the other!” Phil said, encouragingly.

This time, taking warning from his former mishap, and realizing that the more haste the less speed, Larry succeeded in thrusting his left hand into the grasp of the waiting chum above. Phil instantly exerted all his strength; and what with the frantic efforts of the fat boy, the result was all that could have been wished.

Larry rolled over as soon as he found himself safe on dry land. He gave a grunt of what might be satisfaction; allowed another pint of water to escape; and then, filled with eagerness to witness what strange sights might be transpiring close by, crawled to the edge of the bank again, to stare with dilated eyes at the antics of the swamp boy.

Nor was Phil far behind him in seeking a place where he too might be a witness to Tony’s wonderful skill in riding the wild alligator bull.

The baffled saurian, roaring with the pain entailed upon him when the boy thus thrust both thumbs down into his eyes, still lashed the water with his sweeping tail, and had started to swim aimlessly about, unable to see whither he might be heading.

Tony’s usually sallow face was aflame with delight. He seemed “dreadfully tickled,” as Larry would say over the splendid opportunity to show off before his new Northern friends. They knew all about reading, and the world at large; but neither of them would have dared thus ride a savage bull ’gator. It was surely Tony’s hour!

But presently the huge reptile, driven frantic by pain, made a sudden lurch, and dived down into the depths of the river, as though hoping in this way to relieve himself of the terrible enemy that was blinding him.

Amid the foam-crested wavelets Phil saw the swamp boy reappear; and his heart, which had seemingly risen into his throat, resumed its normal beating once more.

“Oh! look, there he is again! Bully for Tony; but didn’t he do it fine! Come ashore, Tony, before he gets after you again!” called out the excited Larry.

Tony was leisurely swimming toward them, his face still wearing that broad grin.

“Not much danger he do that, I tell yuh,” he answered, coolly. “Old mossback, he get in hole, an’ hide a week. Skeer him heap that time. Know him come out o’ swamp. Get him hide yet, yuh see if I don’t.”

Reaching the dangling rope-end Tony climbed up unassisted, scorning the helping hand Phil thrust downward. It was as if he desired to show how differently he might have acted had he been in Larry’s place. And that individual immediately made up his mind that after such a humiliating experience he would daily practice such useful stunts as climbing a rope, since there could be no telling when it might come in handy as a life saving exercise.

Tony, upon reaching the top of the bank, shook himself like a big New Foundland dog might have done. He had no coat on at the time, nor had Larry, which proved doubly fortunate, considering their immersion.

And Larry, full of gratitude, insisted on squeezing Tony’s hand, while he poured out boyish congratulations on the wonderful feat he had seen the other perform. Tony looked greatly pleased. These two chums had done so much for him that he only too gladly welcomed the opportunity to wipe out a little of the debt.