They could lie down now and go to sleep without worrying about the possibility of unwelcome visitors. And as for Thad he shook hands with himself in imagination every time he stopped to think what a great thing the coming of Alligator Smith meant, connected with the carrying out of his plans.
All doubt could now be set aside. They were not going to be lost, as had on several occasions threatened to be the case. And when the mysterious man and girl were finally found, perhaps Thad’s fondest hopes would be realized.
CHAPTER XIII.
MORE TROUBLE ALL AROUND.
“I tell you, Thad, it was all a mistake; we went and buried the wrong thing after all, and I don’t care who knows it.”
Davy looked fixedly at the back of Bumpus’ head while he was saying this, for they were once more in the boats, moving along, and Bumpus had the bow, then Step Hen, Davy and Thad the steersman, in the stern.
“Now what’s ailing you, Davy?” demanded Step Hen; “seems like you’re never happy any more.”
“Well, if you’d only shake off that cold Bumpus gave you, so you could get that onion scent, like I do this minute, chances are you wouldn’t be feelin’ any too happy either,” lamented Davy.
“Well, I declare I thought that was all buried with the onions,” said Bumpus, trying to twist his fat neck so he could look around, but failing.
“All right, but it wasn’t, all the same,” avowed the complaining one, “’cause it’s just as rank as ever. Wait till I tell Giraffe when we go ashore at noon, and say, you’ll see a mad fellow then, with all them onions sacrificed for nothing, and him that fond of them, too.”
“You have got the greatest imagination of anybody I ever saw,” declared Bumpus, indignantly. “To me the air is as sweet as anything.”