“I hain’t so sartain I’ll be safe myself,” Joe argued. “My gun’s been stole. Some thieven scalawag made off with it late last night while I was skinnin’ an animal. Left it a-settin’ against a post down by the dock. The rascal took my gun and some salted meat I had in a crock!”
“Someone who came from the swamp?” Penny asked quickly.
“’Pears he must o’ come from there.”
“Could the thief have been one of the Hawkins family?”
“’Tain’t likely,” the guide replied. “They all got good guns o’ their own. Anyhow, the Hawkins’ hain’t never stooped so low they’d steal from a neighbor.”
“Will you take us in your boat?” Louise urged impatiently. “We’ll pay you well for your time. If we find Bones, you’ll receive an extra twenty-five dollars.”
“It hain’t the money. Lookin’ fer that dog would be like lookin’ fer a needle in a haystack.”
“You might accidently run into the person who stole your gun,” Penny suggested.
“Now, there’d be some sense to that,” the trapper said with sudden interest. “I’d like to lay hands on him!”
“Then you’ll go?” the girls demanded together.