"No; why?"
"'Tis a live alligator Crundall asked for, not a poisoned one."
"I'm not going to poison him; you wait a jiffy!" And Arnold chuckled again, but gently, for fear of scaring the alligator.
The latter, however, was still taking life easy, basking in a patch of sunlight which leaked between the trees.
Carefully mixing his two powders, Arnold made them into one package, which he rolled up in several thicknesses of paper, and tied securely. He then dexterously inserted this package inside the carcass of the diminutive pigling, and sewed it into place.
"Next thing is to present the bait nicely and quietly to our fat friend there," remarked Arnold as he completed operations.
Terry shrugged his shoulders. For once his quick Irish wits were quite at fault.
Carrying the pig, Arnold crept cautiously out on a fallen log which extended over the water, and dropped his burden cautiously into the sluggish stream. It floated slowly down toward the spot where the great scaly brute lay basking.
"Only hope another chap don't get it first," muttered Arnold. "It's the big fellow we want."