He saw that the dogs were nosing about, and feared lest they should set out on the trail of the poor wretch by mistake.
The sheriff laughed.
"Oh, our time's too valuable to fool away with that black trash. He ain't wuth shootin'. Come on, then, boys. Like tuh sit up with yuh, friends, an' have a snack, but we got to be on the move afore the trail below gits cold. Yuh see, we hed word 'bout Bob, an' we wanter git him this clip, sure. So-long, an' good luck! Thet thar is sure the boss little boat yuh got."
And presently the sheriff and his posse faded from view under the long streamers of hanging Spanish moss that overshadowed the river below.
"I'm just as glad. He gave me the creeps. That eye of his was fierce," said Will.
"Oh, that's because you've got a guilty conscience, I guess," laughed Jerry. "Now to me he was a picture of a strong character that would have made a good showing in our album," and he looked severely at Will.
"Oh! What beastly luck! Why didn't I think of it in time? Another chance gone glimmering! I think you fellows are too mean for anything, not to remind me of these things in time. He would have embellished our album handsomely—and those dogs, too! How picturesque bloodhounds are! I feel sick."
Will jumped up, snatched his camera, and stalked off beyond the edge of the camp, as if to brood alone. Presently they heard him calling:
"Oh, Frank! Won't you come here for a minute? I'm just taking the picture of a big snake, and he's as angry as you please. There's a locust somewhere close by, too, keeping up a tremendous rattling. Please hurry! He won't wait long!"
Frank, followed by Jerry, was off like a shot. His face turned white with sudden apprehension as he ran. Coming upon Will, kneeling there, and watching, he seized him by the shoulders and whirled him back, exclaiming: