“But where’s the nest?” I said.
“Why, there it is, my lad; can’t you see?”
I looked round, but there was nothing visible but a few footprints in a muddy spot, and a hole of very moderate size, evidently going some distance down into the moist, boggy soil.
“Is this it?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But you said a nest.”
“Well, I meant, as I told you, his nest, his snuggery. Now I’m going to see if he’s at home.”
I looked on full of doubt, for the whole proceeding seemed to me to be very absurd, and I felt sure that Morgan was mistaken.
“I don’t believe he knows any more about alligators than I do,” I said to myself, as I saw him thrust the long pole down into the hole.
“I tried this game on yesterday, Master George, and he said he was at home.”