"But that's not the best thing," Jehosophat went on, "they'll have a flag with a skull an' dead men's bones painted on it."
"Crackey!" exclaimed his brother, just like the big boys. It was a fine word, too, but only to be used on special occasions. And pirates and skulls and dead men's bones certainly made a "special occasion."
Jehosophat seemed to think so, too, for he was singing in high glee,
"Yo, ho, ho,
And a bottle of bay rum."
As these last dread words died on the air, they thought they heard a sound behind them. It was something like a laugh--more, perhaps, like a chuckle. They turned and saw nothing but the high board fence of the cowyard, and, over by the barn, the Toyman, walking very swiftly towards his workshop. Now usually they would have wondered about that; tried to guess what he "would make," but this morning there were other, very grave, things taking their attention.
"Guess it was pirates--ssshhh!" whispered Jehosophat, "they may have disbarked an' be hidin' in the bushes."
But a way of escape was open. It was coming down the stream.
Jehosophat spied it.
"The very thing!" he cried.
It was a big gate which had been carried off by the flood; and it was tossed first to this side and then to the other by the brown water.