Mose, now the happiest little negro boy in the United States, sat astride of his limb and grinned until it seemed that the top of his head would drop off backward!
In the meantime, the river pirate had remained unnoticed on the deck, the rope so deftly dropped by Mose still around his neck. Case finally bent over him.
“Why!” he exclaimed, shrinking back. “The man is dead!”
“Dead!” echoed Clay. “What killed him?”
Then they all bent over the still figure for a closer examination. Just as Case had declared, the robber was dead. His neck had been broken by the rope when Mose had drawn him off his feet! Alex. looked up at the boy.
“You must have a good pull in your arms!” he cried. “How did you manage to swing him up? You’re a wonder, Mose!”
Mose only grinned in reply, but Clay explained the matter by saying that the boy had thrown the rope over a limb higher up and used that as a pulley.
“Still,” he added, “it took a lot of muscle to jerk that heavy man off his feet. I didn’t think the boy had it in him.”
Then came the question as to what disposition should be made of the body. There was no hard ground near at hand so that a decent grave could be prepared. There were marshy knolls, it is true, but any excavation made there would instantly fill with water.
“Well,” Gregg said, “the best we can do is to bury him in the water. I don’t mean in the lagoon or in the river, but in a grave which will fill with water. There he will at least be out of the reach of reptiles and wild animals when the water subsides.”