“That’s because you ain’t got a big chump wearing a greasy old suit asitting right to windward of you,” burst out Davy.
“Step Hen, ain’t the air all right?” demanded the accused one.
“You’ll have to pass me, boys; I’m out of the smelling class right now. I don’t believe I could even smell a rat, as they say. Fight it out between you, but don’t drag me in. Some other time I’ll act as judge and jury, but not to-day.”
“Well, I know what I know,” Davy went on to say stubbornly, “and if me’n Giraffe can manage it there’ll be a scout alookin’ a hundred per cent cleaner than he is now, by to-morrow morning.”
“Better look out,” warned Bumpus, belligerently.
“Lookout yourself, where you’re running us,” cried Davy.
Somehow or other the boat left its course and scraped into the overhanging branches. Perhaps this was only a clever little trick on the part of Thad, calculated to break up the dispute between the two scouts, which was rapidly becoming rather acrimonious.
It had the expected result, if this was Thad’s design, for all of them found it necessary to scramble around, using both hands to protect their eyes from the intruding branches, so that when the boat finally came out into the open again, Davy forgot to resume his discussion, and just suffered in silence.
The alligator hunter, in his own boat, led the van of the procession. With so clever and reliable a guide to depend on Thad wasted no time in marking the way, for so long as Tom Smith stayed by them they did not anticipate having any further trouble in getting out of the swamp.
Nevertheless, it had become second nature for Thad and Allan to take mental notes of all things as they went along, a good habit that may often prove valuable in the extreme.