‘Glad you didn’t,’ said Mr. Kinsey. ‘We might not have found you at all. Suppose you tell us about your run-in with those fellows, Lank and Cocker. I’d like to get it straight.’ So Pud began with their arrival at Corbin, with Gladys Ermintrude aboard, and narrated their adventures down to the evening before when sleep had overtaken him. He had three interested and, at moments, slightly incredulous hearers. ‘Son,’ said the sheriff solemnly, ‘you’ve got a heap o’ pluck, and I’ll be gol-swizzled if you haven’t got a head on your shoulders, too!’ ‘He’s got something else that’s better than those,’ said Mr. Kinsey, ‘and that’s luck!’ ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ asked the sheriff solicitously. ‘Starved,’ laughed Pud. ‘’Course you be! Tom, got anything to eat aboard?’ The policeman shook his head regretfully. ‘Afraid not,’ he said. ‘I don’t know, though, Henry. Look in the little locker just back of you. There might be some crackers.’ There were! Only part of a carton, but Pud, eating them ravenously, was sure they had saved his life! There was plenty of cool water in a copper tank with a little nickel faucet, and he made a breakfast. While he ate, he listened to the conversation of the others. He learned that the sheriff’s name was Bowker, that Mr. Kinsey was a detective of the Department of Justice who had been sent to Livermore to find the persons who had been flooding the country thereabouts with counterfeit money, and that the latter’s presence aboard the launch was purely an accident. He had, it appeared, been at Police Headquarters when Sheriff Bowker had arrived to requisition the launch and had added himself to the party. Pud learned, too, many interesting facts about counterfeiters and their methods. The thought that the somewhat friendly Lank was in reality a desperate criminal, one ‘wanted’ by the Federal Government, stirred him considerably. Why, he and Lank had talked together just like ordinary folks! And, more marvelous still, he, Pud Pringle, alone and unaided, had foiled the villain! _Gee!_ ‘Getting nigh Cypress Creek, son,’ announced the sheriff, breaking in on Pud’s reflections. ‘Maybe you better watch for those partners of yours.’ A minute or so later the launch slowed down, swung gracefully to the right and nosed into the smaller stream. Pud recognized the scene, although the morning sunlight gave it a far different aspect. Policeman Casey’s voice came suddenly from the bow. ‘There they are,’ he said. ‘One white and one black. On the bank over there.’