"Oh! now I catch on to what's on your mind," laughed Phil. "You're
thinking of our colored friend, Pete Smith, the chap with the seven
piccaninnies?"

"That's what I am, Phil. What if he had caught the odor of that noble
bird in his half starved condition?"

"Whose--the bird's?" queried Phil, wickedly.

"Oh! no, you know I mean Pete," replied Larry, quite unruffled. "Don't
you suppose he'd have followed his nose, and discovered how we'd placed
the turkey away so neatly? And he'd have uncovered him, and run away
with the whole show. That would have not only cheated us out of our
breakfast and lunch; but have also lost us a chance for doing a noble
deed."

"Hear! hear! I see you're bringing your Boy Scout training down to
Florida with you, Larry. And I wager you never let a sun go down
without having done something to make a fellow critter happier. But
stop and think, it was only midnight when Pete gave us that call,
wasn't it?"

"Somewhere about that time, I guess; but why?" Larry asked.

"Don't you see," Phil went on positively; "the oven couldn't have more
than half done its work by then; so even if Pete had gobbled the
gobbler he'd have had to eat him partly cooked. Not that Pete would
have objected very much to that, for he was too near the starving point
to kick. Now, my opinion is, we had greater luck because we dug up our
breakfast as early as we did."

"How's that, Phil? What has the early bird got to do with the worm; or
the worm with the early bird, as it is in this case?"

"Why, you must remember that we had to quit in something of a hurry,"
laughed Phil. "If our turkey was still in the oven don't you suppose
those dogs would have nosed it out in a jiffy after they arrived? And
we couldn't turn back to claim our game. That posse would have feasted
on the fruits of your great hunt."

In spite of Larry's love for argument, based upon the fact that he
expected to some day become a lawyer like his father, he was compelled
to admit that in this case Phil had the best of it.

And so the bones of the turkey were polished off in the middle of the
day; with every one declaring that it had been a great treat. Larry
kept the two drumsticks as well as the wings of the gobbler. Possibly
he might many a time feel a queer little sensation creeping up and down
his spinal column as memory carried him back again to that slough,
where the treacherous black mud was slowly but surely sucking him down.