Chums in Dixie | Page 2

against when we get
two-thirds of the way down to the gulf. Wonder what they'd say if they
knew your dad owned most all of that property along this crazy old
creek they call a river. And that you even expect to stop off to interview
that terrible McGee they talk about! Oh, my! what was that, now?"
Larry ceased to stretch himself. He even sat up, his eyes wide open now,
as if he had noticed something away out of the usual; and they were
fastened on the stern of the boat, where he had certainly seen something
slip over the gunwale, and vanish under a pile of blankets that had been
airing.
Phil raised his head. He did not even glance at his chum, but seemed to
be listening intently.
"Now what d'ye suppose all that shouting means?" he exclaimed.
"Seems to be coming this way too, and mighty fast at that. There, look,
Larry, don't you see them running through the woods? As sure as you
live they're coming this way! I wonder if it's a fox hunt, or what?"
"Mebbe--" began Larry; and then his comrade interrupted him before
he could say what was on his mind.
"They're heading right for us; and there's that big Colonel Brashears at
their head, the fellow who told us all those awful stories about the
shingle-makers of the swamps. Here they come, seven of 'em; and look,
Larry, as many as four have got ugly whips in their hands! Something's
up, I tell you."
Again did Larry open his mouth as though to say something; and for
the second time, after a swift glance toward the blankets, he closed it
again resolutely.
The seven men who were running speedily drew near. Most of them
were out of breath, and all looked very much excited. The leader, who
was quite a character in the Southern town, and a fierce appearing
individual, with a military swagger, which Phil believed to be wholly

assumed, immediately addressed himself to the two young Northerners
on the new-fangled motor boat, which had been the wonder of the
townspeople ever since it was dropped off the cars to be launched in the
so-called "river" at their doors.
"Seen anything of him acomin' this aways, sah?" he asked, in a high
pitched, raspy voice. "We done chased him through the woods, and he's
give us the slip. Thinkin' he mout have come in this direction, we
changed our course to put the question to yuh."
"What was it--a fox?" asked Phil, innocently enough.
"No, sah, it was not a fox, but a miserable whelp of a boy!" exclaimed
the indignant colonel, drawing his military figure up, and cracking his
whip with a vindictive report that sounded like the discharge of a pistol.
"A boy?" ejaculated Phil, astonished at all this display of force under
such peculiar conditions.
"A boy!" echoed Larry, some of the color leaving his face, and a look
of genuine concern taking its place.
"A mighty sassy and desp'rit critter at that," the colonel went on. "One
of that McGee tribe from down-river way. He's been loafin' 'round
town some days, I'm told, an' we're lucky not to have our homes robbed
o' everything wuth while. My Bob met him on the street a while back;
an' jest like boys, they had words that led to blows. The miserable
beggar actually had the nerve to lick my Bob; foh yuh see I reckon he's
just like a wildcat in a fight. When I seen the black eye and bloody nose
he give my Bob I jest natchally ached to lay it on him; and organizin' a
posse o' my neighbors, who has reason to hate them McGees like cold
pizen, we started out to lay hands on the cub an' tan his hide black an'
blue."
"But he managed to escape after all, you say?" asked Phil, who had
some difficulty in keeping a grin of satisfaction from showing on his
face; for the idea of these seven stalwart men chasing one puny little
chap was pretty close to ridiculous in his eyes.

"He was too slick foh us, I reckons, sah," the colonel went on, snapping
off the heads of a few wild flowers with the lash of his constantly
moving whip. "We done lost sight of him in the woods, and thought as
how possibly you mout aseen him thisaways. And so we turned aside to
ask you that question, sah."
Phil shook his head in the negative.
"I give you my word, Colonel Brashears, I haven't seen the least sign of
any boy for the last five hours," he said, positively, and with truth. "I've
been busy making a few changes in my engine here; and we expect to
start down the river