"What happened to you, by the way?" questioned Ned.
"Oh, I got left up a tree, just like the alligator bait down in Florida. Do you know how the colored people catch alligators down there?"
"In a woodchuck trap?" questioned Rector quizzically.
"Na-a-a-a! I'll tell you for your information, if you don't know. They take a little colored baby and tie him either to the limb of a tree that hangs over the water, or else fasten him to a long pole—one that will bend—then lower him over the water. He yells—could you blame him? The 'gators, hearing the yell, and maybe getting a whiff of the kid, come up with open jaws with appetites that would break a hotel. No, they don't get the little cullud person. They get a chunk of lead right through one eye and usually that's the end of Mr. 'Gator. The tiny cullud person is removed from the pole and the deed's done and everybody's happy ever afterwards."
"A very likely story!" observed Ned scornfully.
"Very," agreed Tad. "We had better be getting downstream to look for the others."
Ned refused to get off and walk, so he rode ahead of them to sound the bottom of the stream. Day was just breaking when they came across the Professor and Walter Perkins, both sprinting up and down on a sandy beach to start their blood into circulation. So ludicrous did the two look that the boys shouted. They could well afford to shout now that all of their party were accounted for, with the exception of the guide, whom they had little doubt they should find later safe and sound.
[CHAPTER IV]
WHAT HAPPENED TO CHOPS
"Boys, boys!" cried the Professor. "You don't know how relieved I am to see you safe and sound—"