The more I see of the craft the better
I like her. May I ask what she is worth?"

"I gave two thousand dollars for her. I bought her in New Orleans
and brought her up the river myself. The folks around here don't know
much about gasoline launches, but I think she's as nice a craft as
anybody would wish."

"How much water does she draw?"

"Only two and a half feet when loaded down--so you see we can get
over some pretty shallow spots, if it is necessary."

They were moving along a scantily-wooded stretch of shore when Tom
let out a short cry:

"Stop!"

"What's up, Tom?" asked several.

"I saw somebody just now--back of yonder bushes. He stepped out and
then stepped back again."

"Was it one of the men we are after?" asked Sam.

"I don't know--he got out of sight before I had a good look at him."

"We'll have to investigate," said Dick, and to this the others agreed.
With all possible haste the launch was run to the shore and Sam, Tom,
and Dick got out, followed by Harold Bird. The dog came also, limping
along painfully.

"Find him, Dandy, find him!" said the young Southerner, in a low
tone, and the dog seemed to understand. He put his nose to the ground,
ran around for several minutes, and then started off through the bushes.

"Do you think he has struck the trail?" asked Tom.

"I am sure of it," was Harold Bird's positive reply.

The young Southerner called to the dog, and Dandy went forward more
slowly, so that they could keep him in sight. They passed through
one patch of bushes and then came to a clear space, beyond which was
a field of wild sugarcane.

Hardly had the dog struck the cleared spot when from a distance came
the report of a pistol. Dandy leaped up in the air, came down in a
heap, and lay still.

"Somebody has shot the dog!" cried Sam. "What a shame!"

Harold Bird said nothing, but ran to where the canine lay. Dandy was
breathing his last, and in a minute it was all over.

"Poor fellow!" murmured the young Southerner, and there were tears
in his eyes. "First the bob cats and now a pistol bullet! Oh, if I
can only catch the rascal who fired that shot I'll make him suffer
for this!"

"The fellow killed the dog, so the animal could not trail him," said
Dick. "It was certainly a dirty trick."

"It shows that the man is a criminal," put in Tom. "He would not be
afraid of us if he was honest."

"And therefore it must have been Gasper Pold or Solly Jackson," said Sam.

"What will yo