"Gracious—I wonder if he means the boat or the alligator?" said Mollie. "I hope he understands that we don't want both—only the boat."
"Oh, he'll know," declared Betty. She was eagerly watching the actions of the ragged youth in the scow.
Suddenly he drew something from his pocket and held it close to the water, leaning over the edge of his craft.
There was a puff of smoke, a flash of fire, and a report that sounded very loudly to the girls.
"Oh!" cried Grace, covering her ears with her hands.
"Be quiet, silly!" exclaimed Betty. "It was the only thing he could do. He shot at the alligator."
Again the revolver of the ragged youth sounded loudly and, a little cloud of smoke floated over his boat. Then he shouted:
"I hit him! I hit him!"
He was seen to reach over with his pole, and fish for something in the water.
"I hope he isn't going to bring it ashore—the alligator, I mean!" cried Mollie. "We want the boat. Get the boat!" she called to the ragged youth.