“Why,” said the swamp hunter, as he screwed up his forehead in a way he had of doing when trying to “cudgel his brains,” as the saying is, “’bout all I remembers o’ thet shack she war on’y made up outen slabs an’ ther like; an’ seems tuh me like theh w’ar an tear o’ years’d like as not make it look sick. But then, mebbe as how this heah Jasper he done tote some more stuff acrost, an’ patched theh cabin up so hit’d shed water like.”
“Does it lie among the trees?” asked Thad
“It sure does, suh,” replied the other.
“How long would it take us to get there from here?” the boy went on to inquire.
“If so be we started tuh walk reg’lar-like, we’d be thar in three minutes I done reckon,” answered Tom Smith.
“So close as that,” muttered the sheriff; “I hope then, none of my posse happens to let out a bark or a sneeze; seems like that’d be heard if a feller happened to be awake an’ listenin’ like.”
On his part Thad was more concerned about Bumpus than any of the others; because in the past on more occasions than one the fat scout had, as Giraffe expressed it, “knocked the fat into the fire,” by some unexpected act. Which explained in part why the scout-master was wild to accomplish something looking to the rescue of the little girl before any such accident could occur.
Why, it had come to such a pass among the scouts that if a fellow wanted to be very particular about some group picture he hoped to snap off, he kept his eye severely on Bumpus all the while; for if he could make sure that the clumsy member of the patrol were all right, he had little fear about the rest. Bumpus had ruined many a picture by some stumble, or upheaval that was not gratifying to the artist.
“I’m going to ask a favor of you, Mr. Sheriff,” said Thad, suddenly, as he leaned forward, the better to speak in the other’s ear.
“Then spit her out, son,” replied the officer, though he looked rather surprised, and somewhat disappointed, just as if he suspected along what lines this request on the part of the scout might lie; “as I said before, this heah is more your game than it is ourn, an’ I’m willin’ to let ye have the right o’ way.”