When they got to the automobile Vinegar found certain mysterious bundles piled up in the machine. “Whut is dis?” he demanded. “Fire-works!” Skeeter snickered. “We raked off a few so we could go to Kerlerac an’ surprise dem niggers!” “I’s glad I’s gwine!” Vinegar chuckled. “I bet us will hab plenty big doin’s!” Three hours later Skeeter stopped his machine at the foot of the Mississippi protection levee at Kerlerac. The town was asleep. There were no electric lights and the river fog concealed the stars, making total darkness. “Vinegar,” Skeeter said, “does you still mourn de loss of dat stove-pipe preachin’ hat whut you drapped in de river to-day?” “I suttinly do!” Vinegar growled. “Would you wish to earn another good silk hat by a little wuck?” Skeeter inquired next. “Shorely.” “I’ll make you a present of a ten-dollar silk hat, white silk linin’ on de inside an’ slick, shiny fur on de outside wid a red silk handkercher to slick it up wid, ef you’ll take my auto back to Tickfall to-night an’ meet me at de Tickfall landin’ on de river to-morrow mawnin’,” Skeeter Butts said. “Whut--whut----” “Don’t ax no ’terrogations!” Skeeter snapped. “I’ll do it!” Vinegar howled. Hitch Diamond lifted out the bundles, and Vinegar sat down at the wheel, turned the machine, and roared his farewell to the men. Picking up the bundles, Skeeter led his friends down the levee for a short distance, stopping when he saw a black shape on the water. Taking an electric flashlight from his pocket, Skeeter sent the glare across to the bulky object looming in the darkness. “Look at dat!” Hitch Diamond growled. “Dar’s our boat! Dat’s shore de _Mud Hen_.” Skeeter reflected the light upon the water beside the boat until it rested upon a canoe. “Pipe Smash is on dat boat now!” Figger Bush whispered. “I bet he got drunk at de nigger dance an’ is sound asleep!” “Now, fellers,” Skeeter began, “you listen to me----” Skeeter talked like a grape-juice orator for five minutes, and his audience of two listened with breathless attention. After that Skeeter went aboard the boat, climbing the rope hand over hand, and paddled the canoe back for his bundles and his friends. Pipe Smash lay in a drunken slumber on the deck with his head toward the warm furnace of the engine. Skeeter untied the boat from a stump, paddled to the _Mud Hen_, climbed aboard, and let the steamboat drift slowly out into the current. When they had floated about two miles below Kerlerac, where the heavy woods lay upon each side of the river, Skeeter crawled upon his hands and knees, and from the keg which he had stolen from Gaitskill laid a heavy trail of calcium powder all around the boat. Hitch opened the furnace door and laid twenty-four large sky-rockets on the hot ashes, and left the door open. Figger Bush opened a package of roman-candles, scooped up a shovel of live coals from the furnace, and laid it beside the package.