ich his venturesome spirit had carried him.

Still, he was far from being discouraged. He had not yet shot his
bolt. When this leader of the shingle-makers learned about the
magnificent offer which his father had made, surely he could never hold
the same feelings of bitter resentment and hatred toward the new owner
of all those miles of cypress swamps, with their millions upon millions
of feet of valuable timber waiting to be marketed.

"Come on, Larry, we're going to see the village of the McGees sooner
than we expected," and as he stepped from the boat to the shore, Phil
took care to link his arm with that of his chum, being desirous of
cheering the other up as well as possible.

"And do we have to walk two miles over all that ricketty kind of land?"
groaned poor fat Larry, perspiring at the very thought of the labor.

So they left the motor boat, and Phil could not help wondering whether
they were fated to ever set eyes on it again. Perhaps the men might
disregard the orders of their chief, and loot the craft of everything
movable, even disabling the steady going motor, so that it would be as
so much waste junk afterwards.

Tony must have divined his thoughts, for he took occasion to run
alongside, and mutter in Phil's ear:

"Don't yuh bother 'bout the boat; she won't be teched arter what he
sed. Ther man don't live thet dar's go ag'in McGee's order. Hit's all
right, Phil, all right!"

They quickly reached the spot where the big signal fire had burned long
enough to bring the crowd all the way from the distant village. It was
still blazing up now and then, so that the near vicinity was far from
gloomy; but the work of the fire had been finished.

McGee led the way straight to where the long hollowed-out log boat
rested, the prow drawn up on the shelving shore.

"Git in!" he said, in his deep voice that was like the rumble of
distant thunder.

"Bully! we're going to paddle down by water! Ain't I glad though!"
exclaimed the relieved Larry, as he only too gladly clambered over the
edge, and found a seat amidships of the dugout canoe.

"Yuh git in too, Tony," said McGee, gloomily, as he motioned to his boy.

Evidently he was still in a towering rage but at the same time there
were so many things he could not understand in connection with the
coming of this Lancing boy, and Tony's being in his company, that he
was holding himself back with a great effort.

McGee himself sat in the stern of the boat,