‘Not much. I learned that they’d been printing here, and I’m pretty well satisfied that the plates were either engraved in that shack or finished there. Those were acid stains all right. I know what kind of a press they used and I know that the third man, the one the boy said talked funny, is a short, rather small guy; probably not over five feet six, and’――he took something from his pocket and showed it to the sheriff――‘I know this is the brand of cigarettes he smokes. Found it in the ashes in the chimney-place. That doesn’t help much, of course, but I’ve started on less. Besides, I know one of the three already, and that’s enough to land them all――some day.’ The sheriff nodded. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You fellows generally get ’em in the end. But, say, how’d you get at the Italian’s size and his height, eh?’ ‘Well, the boy described the other two pretty well. One tall and big-built, the other shorter, but still average height, and heavy-set. Guess maybe you didn’t notice those beds, did you? Boxes, sort of, filled with marsh hay. One of them was used by Lank and the fellow called Cocker. You could see that easy enough. The other was used by this Italian guy and there was six or eight inches of the hay at the bottom that had never been pressed down. That’s how I figured his height. I got his size from the size of his foot. His prints were all over outside there. Wears about a six shoe, and has a high arch.’ The sheriff grunted. ‘Well, that’s clever,’ he allowed, ‘but I wouldn’t want to see a man convicted on that sort of evidence.’ ‘Oh, that isn’t evidence. That’s only information that may or may not come in handy some day. Well, now let’s try this famous Swamp Hole I’ve been hearing so much about!’ Pud had a long story to tell and many explanations to make while the police launch, her powerful motor scarcely more than purring, went on down the winding stream. But he was favored with as rapt an audience as any narrator could desire, and when he told of the short and sharp engagement in which, with the trusty boat-hook, he had repelled boarders, Tim gasped admiringly. ‘Gosh!’ he said. ‘My golly!’ chuckled Harmon. ‘Reckon you’s a pretty fine ol’ pirate, Mister Pud, after all!’ After that Pud brought events down to the moment, exhibiting with Mr. Kinsey’s permission, the amazing contents of Lank’s package, at sight of which Harmon’s eyes stuck so far out of his round black countenance that Pud was momentarily uneasy lest they might not get back again! And Tim was still questioning when the launch glided around a bend and Swamp Hole lay before them.