“Then you can take charge of them all as criminals wanted by the courts?” inquired Halstead.
“Yep; I reckon we can.”
“Good enough, then; you can have ’em on the old charges, and I won’t have to stay in Florida, forever and day, to be a witness.”
“There is no use staying here,” declared Henry Tremaine. “Bring prisoners and all up to the house. It’s a lot more comfortable talking where there are chairs.”
Joe walked on one side of his chum as they bent their steps away from the pier. To aggravate Oliver Dixon’s jealous rage, Ida Silsbee also managed to keep close to the young skipper.
On the broad porch the four prisoners were lined up. Uncle Tobey was also brought out and added to them, the local officers being satisfied that the aged negro voodoo doctor had acted as a go-between for the gang.
“And this is the whole of the Ghost of Alligator Swamp, laid by the heels,” chuckled Henry Tremaine, appreciatively.
Then Tom, of course, had to tell the story of his strange adventure. He told it with extreme modesty, yet even the dullest account was bound to place him higher than ever in the estimation of all his hearers save Joe. Young Dawson had an opinion of his chum that nothing could increase.
The three who had been gagged were now allowed the use of their tongues, but did not abuse their privilege. Sim ordered them all to “shet up and keep shet,” which advice they followed to the letter.
It was a big feeding contract that devolved upon the Tremaines. In the house, however, were plenty of provisions. With the help of some of the Florida men a meal big enough for all was prepared before dark. Even the prisoners were fed. Then the local visitors were ready to take the collective “ghost” to the nearest jail, many miles off through the forest. Henry Tremaine, however, after paying all liberally for their trouble, further engaged six of the natives to remain behind.