“I think it’s about time you hailed the sheriff, Tom Smith,” remarked Thad, when he was convinced that further delay might cause them trouble.
“Jest as yuh sez, suh,” replied the swamp guide, as he raised his hands to his mouth to serve as a megaphone.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A SURPRISE.
“Hello! Sheriff Badgely! Hello!”
When Tom Smith, the alligator-hide hunter, sent this hail out at the top of his voice, it seemed as though every other sound ceased like magic. Why, even the hounds stopped yelping, and seemed as though they might be standing there, sniffing the air in their endeavor to locate the one who had shouted.
“Who’s that callin’ me?” a voice was heard to say.
“It’s me, Sheriff, Alligator Tom Smith; I didn’t want yuh tuh be a takin’ a crack et me fust, an’ then beggin’ my pardon arterwards.”
“Oh! that’s it, hey? Whar are ye at, Tom?” came the sheriff’s voice.
“Out heah a space, in a boat. I done got a party o’ No’the’n boys along with me, as wanted tuh see what ole Alligator Swamp she looked like. Ef yuh kim right ’long ther ridge, Sheriff, yuh cain’t miss us. We-uns’d like tuh meet up with yuh right smart. These heah boys they hain’t never seen dawgs like them yuh got.”
“All right, Tom, we’ll be ’long thar in a jiffy. Glad ye spoke out when ye did, ’case some o’ my men they like as not air ready to shoot at the sight o’ a hat. Move along, Carson; hello, Mobbs, shove the boats on, and jine us t’other side o’ the p’int.”