‘_Ker-chew!_’ This time it was Tim, and the violence of the sneeze almost took him overboard. The light enveloped him for an instant, wavered, vanished. ‘Good-night, boys! Much obliged!’ ‘Don’t mention it,’ answered Pud faintly. The other launch churned the water astern and jumped forward again. Pud pulled the lever toward him and the _Jolly Rodger_ took up her journey. For a long moment nothing was said on board. Then, from behind the boys came a sibilant whisper: ‘Have they gone? Can I get up?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Pud bitterly, ‘but you mighty near spoiled everything! What did you go and sneeze for like that?’ ‘Well,’ replied Gladys Ermintrude, emerging from the tent flap, ‘I guess you’d sneeze, too, if you had to keep your head under that dusty old tent!’ Then her indignation vanished and she laughed softly. ‘My gracious, didn’t we fool them, though? It was just like ‘The Dangers of Dorothy’; where the heroine hides in the potato sack and the villains throw her in the cart and don’t know it! Did you see it?’ ‘No,’ said Pud shortly. ‘Say, isn’t that the creek ahead there?’ ‘Yes,’ said the girl. ‘All right. I’m going in there a ways and tie up to a bank so’s we can talk things over. I guess they won’t look for us there.’ There was a sound of hilarity from the stern and Pud peered back. ‘What’s your trouble, Harmon?’ he demanded. ‘Nothin’, Mister Pud,’ answered the darky chokingly. ‘I――I’s jus’ laughin’ at the way Mister Tim done fool them folks! ‘Ker-choo!’ he say, ‘Ker-choo!’ My golly, that was surely one pow’ful lucky sneeze!’ ‘Well, you’d better stop that noise,’ grumbled Pud, ‘or they’ll hear you and come back! Slow her down more, Tim, will you? Gee, this isn’t much of a creek!’ It wasn’t, so far as width was concerned, but fortunately it was deep and there were no snags, and Pud made the turn neatly and the launch went slowly, cautiously forward. Tim got a pocket torch and, standing beside Pud, explored the banks on either side. Presently they found what they sought, a place where the launch could be laid close to the bank and under the drooping branches of a big willow. Better still, as later developed, there was a cleared space a few yards away from the creek large enough to hold the tent; for they had by now abandoned all idea of getting on to Corbin that night. It was already past eight o’clock, and even aside from the danger of again encountering Pete Minger’s boat, to make the ascent of the winding stream with no better illumination than could be supplied by two pocket flashlights would be a good deal of a hazard. Pud devoutly wished that they had never seen Gladys Ermintrude, but since she was on their hands they would have to reckon with her.