They went up Cabbage Creek to Ryson’s swamp in the motor boat, as on a former occasion, making their way to the land owned by Mrs. Hopkins, wading with their big rubber boots.
“Well, boys, here you are again!” called Fussel, with what he probably meant to be cordiality. “Better make the most of your trips here,” and he laughed.
“How’s that?” asked Jerry, though he guessed at the other’s meaning. Jerry looked around. Considerably more work had been done in excavating, and it did look as though only drainage was the object, for long ditches had been dug, the yellow clay being piled about promiscuously.
“Well, we’re going to close up that right of way, if we don’t get that tract there,” and Fussel motioned to Mrs. Hopkins’s land on which the boys were standing. “Have to use an airship on your next visit, I guess,” and he smiled, showing his big, white teeth.
“That’s what we thought,” spoke Jerry, with a laugh. He was not going to let the foreman gain an advantage on him by being good-natured. Jerry could play that game, too, if it meant anything.
The boys looked about them. There seemed to be more men digging in the swamp than on their former visit. The laborers were delving in the mud and water with their long-handled shovels, taking out the sticky mud and clay. The yellow stuff lay beneath a layer of black peat, and Jerry noticed that the peat was piled on one side of the ditches, while the yellow clay was stacked on the opposite bank.
They made their way to where the motor boat was moored, and, as they reached it, Jerry looked back for a moment in the direction where the men were digging in the swamp. As he did so he uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“What’s up? Another bite?” asked Ned.
“No! But look!” whispered Jerry. “Isn’t that Professor Snodgrass?” and he pointed toward the place of the yellow mud.
“It sure is,” agreed Ned. “He must be looking around here for the two-tailed lizard.”