Nearer and nearer came the alligator. He opened his big mouth, full of sharp, shining white teeth to bite Jacko, when, all of a sudden the monkey boy thought of the blown-up paper bag.
"That's the thing," cried Jacko, and with that he clapped his paw down hard on the bag.
"Bang!" it went, just like a cannon. My! how loud!
"Oh, I'm shot! I'm killed! My double-jointed tail is blown off!" cried the alligator, and then, half frightened to death, he scurried off through the woods, taking his tail with him, for of course it wasn't blown off at all.
So that's how the paper bag saved Jacko, and pretty soon his brother and the other Indians came back with their prisoners and the game was over. Then they untied Jacko and they all went to the home of the red and green monkeys, and Mrs. Kinkytail gave them all some bread and jam. She spread thirty-three loaves of bread and used up seventeen pots of jam before they had enough, and the alligator didn't have a smitch, I'm glad to say.
And the next story will be about Jumpo and the green parrot—that is, if the window pane doesn't get the toothache in the night and cry like a baby so it wakes up the pussy cat.