Jeff viewed the skiff leisurely, walking back along the path to obtain all particulars of its appearance. The others viewed it likewise, in silence. Finally, ‘Well, now I dunno as I do, Sheriff,’ said Jeff. He spoke guardedly and turned inquiringly to a neighbor. ‘You ever see it afore, Joe?’ Joe shook a large, shaggy black head, darting a speculative glance at the sheriff. Other heads shook, too. ‘Well, might’s well take it along then,’ announced the sheriff. ‘Reckon these boys can find a use for it. Thought maybe, though, it belonged in here. Saw one of your power-boats down below when we came up. Reckon it was yours, Tolliver, wasn’t it?’ A squat, bent-backed man at the back of the gathering looked startled, but shook his head with some vigor. ‘’Twan’t mine, Sheriff. I ain’t got me no power-boat now.’ ‘That so? Well, whose you reckon it was, Jake? I’m plumb sure it was a Swamp Hole boat.’ The countenances of the group regarded him blankly. Jake Tolliver shook his head again. ‘Reckon ’twan’t none of ourn, Sheriff. Ain’t but three-four here, an’ they was all in creek this mornin’.’ ‘Well, ’tain’t important. We’ll run along. These young fellows got lost and their folks sent me to bring ’em back. All right, Casey.’ ‘Sheriff,’ drawled Jeff, ‘I ain’t sure but that there’s Tally Moore’s skiff, now I get me another look at it. It sort o’ favors Tally’s. Hank, you take a good look, will you? You recollec’ that old skiff o’ Tally’s, don’t you?’ ‘Reckon that’s Tally’s,’ answered the man addressed promptly and with no more than a glance at the rowboat. ‘Heard him tell awhile back as how he’d lost it.’ ‘Tally Moore?’ said the sheriff. ‘Don’t believe I recall him, Jeff. Where’s his place?’ ‘’Round on backwater yonder. Second house on farther bank. Reckon that’s his boat, Sheriff. Reckon he’ll be powerful obliged to you.’ The sheriff nodded, waved good-bye. The launch slipped forward again. The group about the landing watched it silently, and along the creek old folks and children in front of the cabins or shanty-boats drawn back on the banks stopped at their tasks or play to look as silently. The sheriff chuckled. ‘I said it wasn’t any use. They hate to answer questions. Wouldn’t even say about the skiff till they was mighty sure we wasn’t in here to make trouble.’ ‘Looked peaceable enough,’ commented Mr. Kinsey. ‘Yes, they’re peaceable enough so long’s you don’t rile ’em,’ agreed the other tolerantly. ‘Don’t like strangers much; ’specially when they happen to be collectin’ taxes. They’ve got a mean way of shootin’ from cover, too. Mighty difficult to tell where they’re located. Ain’t much taxes goes out o’ the Hole! It ain’t a right healthy job, sir, collectin’ in here. Some o’ these fellows ought to be in jail, but, by and large, they’re fairly law-abiding.’