“That’s the way I get it.”
“And the old coon’s been telling them that the pirates have a rendezvous somewhere near the end of the cut-off. Is that the way you understand it?”
“That’s what the boy said,” was the answer. “Anyway, they’re expecting the nigger to take them to the pirates’ rendezvous and help them get their boat back.”
“Then,” Peck continued, “if you’re satisfied that it’s the right thing to do, I’ll go back to the house, turn the other boys loose, and tell them where they can find their friends.”
“That’ll be all right so far as I’m concerned.”
Captain Joe ran inquisitively toward the thicket as the men moved away, but made no demonstration, as the intruders were not approaching the fire.
“Now,” Alex said, “if we can persuade Uncle Zeke to bring in a large, long piece of firewood, or a stone from the river, or some edible thing of that sort. I’ll have breakfast. If you can’t find anything of that sort that I can digest, Uncle Zeke,” he went on whimsically, “pass me one of the oars and I’ll take a light lunch off that.”
“Why,” Clay laughed, “what’s the matter with Uncle Zeke going out and getting a fish?”
“That may be all right,” Alex replied. “But look here, Uncle Zeke,” he went on, “if you get hold of a fish of the forty-mule-power variety, don’t you ever try to pull him in! He’ll drag you down the river, and there’s a party of thieves in a houseboat down there who are waiting for some nice fat darkey to cook for their dinner.”
“Ah nebber did cotton to no houseboat trash!” the negro exclaimed.