Mr. Snelson was so enthusiastic that he wanted to lead the way, but after he had fallen over a stump and rushed headlong into a brush-heap, he was content to give the lead to Harbert.
Jim-Polk, who was bringing up the rear with Joe Maxwell, gave the latter to understand that even if they didn’t catch a coon, they’d have a good deal of fun with the genial printer.
“We’ll have fun with him,” said Jim-Polk, “if we don’t have to tote him home.”
Mr. Snelson kept up a running fire of conversation, which was only interrupted when he stepped into a hole or a ditch.
“I’ve often read of chasing the raccoon,” he said, “but it never occurred to me mind it was anything approachin’ this. You’re right sure it’s the regular thing?”
“You’ll think so before you get back home,” remarked Jim-Polk. Harbert, knowing what these words really meant, laughed loudly.
“Well, well,” said the genial printer, “if it’s all a joke, I’d as well turn in me tracks and go home.”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Jim-Polk. “Don’t go home. If you think it’s a joke when we get through with it, you may have my hat.”
“Dat’s so,” cried Harbert. “Dat’s so, sho! An’ ef he wuz ter git de hat, I speck I’d ha’ ter he’p’m tote it. Yasser! Dat what I speck.”
The enthusiastic Mr. Snelson and Harbert were ahead, and Joe Maxwell and Jim-Polk brought up the rear.