“Nothin’ to do with it!” exclaimed Adam. “When my rope was jerked out of sight and hearin’ in a minute, and the tarpaulin would ’a’ gone with it, if I hadn’t grabbed it? I should think we had something to do with it.” “Perhaps you had,” said Chap, as he sat down on the sand to put on his shoes. “But I tell you what it is, fellows,” he added, with sparkling eyes, “if we could have tied a live alligator to a tree, it would have been a splendid thing to tell when we got home.” “There is people,” said Adam, dryly, “who’d tell a story like that without tyin’ a ’gator to a tree.” “But we are not that kind,” promptly answered Captain Chap. “But I guess we won’t cry over spilt milk, or lost ropes, either,” said Adam; “and the best thing we kin do is to get along to John Brewer’s house and see about some breakfast.” “We might catch some more fish,” said Chap, “and have breakfast before we started.” “If you kin ketch some coffee,” said Adam, “I’ll be willin’ to talk about breakfast here; but I don’t want to make another meal off fish and warm water, if I can help it. John Brewer’s house is just the other side of that bend, and we’ll be there in half an hour.” The tarpaulin was rolled up, each of the party picked up his individual traps, and, headed by Chap, they were soon walking along the shore of the river. When they turned the bend above, they were delighted to see that Adam was right, and that John Brewer’s house was really there. It was not much of a house, for it was a frame building, one story high, and containing three or four rooms; but it had an air of human habitation about it which was very welcome to the wanderers. It stood in a small clearing, and John Brewer, a little man, with long, brown hair, which looked as if the wind had been blowing it in several directions during the night, came out of his front door to meet them. Two of his children followed him, and the three others and his wife looked out of a half-opened window. Mr. Brewer was mildly surprised to see his old acquaintance, Adam, and the three boys, and when he had heard their story, he took a kind but languid interest in the matter, and went into the house to see about getting breakfast. It was not long before our friends were sitting down to a plentiful meal of coffee, corn-bread, and very tough bacon, Mr. Brewer and his family standing at the end of the table and gazing at them as they ate. Some of them would have joined the breakfast-party had there been plates and cups enough. About half an hour after breakfast, as our friends, with Mr. Brewer and four of the children, were sitting in the shade in front of the house, and Mrs. Brewer and the other child were looking at them behind a half-opened window-shutter, Adam remarked,-- “What I want to know is what chance we have of gettin’ up the river to Titusville?” “How did you expect to get up?” asked Mr. Brewer.