The young giant in the bows landed amidships in a single long jump. “What is it? Snakes?” he cried. For answer the other pointed a finger at Tad, as the boy crawled out of his hiding-place. The look of open-mouthed astonishment on the cook’s face had changed now to one of outraged wrath. “See here, you--you dirty, thievin’ skunk!” he blustered. “What in the nation do ye think ye’re a-doin’ aboard of our--” His voice was drowned by a roar of good-natured merriment from his tall companion. And Tad, looking down at himself for the first time, realized what a grotesque appearance he presented. The brief night-shirt he had worn when the gambler entered his stateroom had been torn to ribbons in the fight which followed. And after being covered with mud and further ripped by the briars, it was no longer recognizable as a garment. From head to foot he was smeared with dirt and dried blood, and his hair was matted with twigs. “All right,” he grinned, “I don’t blame you for laughing, or for thinking I’m a thief, either. But you don’t have to worry. I just crawled in here to sleep last night, and--” “What do ye mean by makin’ free with other folks’ property?” began the smaller of the two boatmen. The one called Abe put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Shut up, Allen,” he said. “Let the boy tell his story. You’re cold, ain’t you, son? Here, wrap yerself up in this.” Gratefully, Tad pulled around him the heavy blanket which was offered, and proceeded to give them an outline of his adventure, while Allen continued cooking the breakfast. “Humph!” grunted that individual, still sourly, when Tad had finished. “How much was you robbed of?” “Not quite two hundred dollars,” answered the boy. “Ha, ha!” chuckled the doubter. “That’s a likely yarn!” “Wait a minute, Allen,” Abe interrupted. “I don’t know how much money he had an’ don’t keer. But I do know when a boy’s tellin’ the truth. What’s your name, sonny?” “Thaddeus Hopkins,” answered the boy. “People generally call me Tad.” “All right, Tad,” the tall young backwoodsman continued. “I reckon the fust thing you’re interested in is breakfast. After that we’ll see about dressin’ you and make some plans. “Now, Allen, if the viands are prepared you may serve our frugal repast.” There was such a comical dignity in his stiff bow as he made the last remark that both his hearers laughed in spite of themselves. Without more ado they attacked the smoking pile of bacon and cornmeal johnny-cake, and Tad thought no food he had ever eaten had tasted quite so good. There had seemed to be a prodigious lot of it when they started, but the giant sweep-oarsman had an appetite quite in keeping with his huge, gaunt frame, and in fifteen minutes the pans were empty. “Thar,” said Abe as he wiped the last of the bacon grease from his tin plate with a piece of corn-bread, “now maybe we can give some attention to navigatin’ the good ship _Katy Roby_.”