"Begorra, what isn't? How are ye going to catch an alligator without hooks?"
"Don't you worry. I'll think it out."
"Faith, 'twill take a divvle of a lot of thinking."
"I'm going to sleep on it first," said Arnold quietly. "We've got to be up at an unholy hour to-morrow. I mean to give Crundall a run for his money. He's worth cultivating—that man."
Terry gave a sigh of resignation, and began pulling off his clothes.
When he awoke next morning Arnold was standing over him ready dressed.
"Have you thought of a plan?" was Terry's first question.
"Bet your life," grinned the other. "Hurry up. Breakfast's ready."
An hour later, guns on shoulder, food for two days, and a coil of stout rope in a game bag, the two were tramping across the wire grass through the dewy pine woods, with the rising sun striking long shafts of light through the red stems.
"Bitter Bayou's the place for my money," said Arnold. "There's stacks of 'em there. But keep an eye peeled for a deer or a pig. I'm not particular."