‘Usually’s good,’ laughed the man grimly. ‘Well, let’s see what’s wrong with the old wheezer.’ He set to work very knowingly, throwing the fly-wheel over thrice experimentally, examining the carburetor, and then unscrewing the plugs. Meanwhile the heavy-set Cocker roamed about, his eyes studying everything most intently. Tim, watching, looked very uneasy. He liked the appearance of the visitors as little as did Pud. ‘Got it,’ announced Lank presently. ‘Broken wire here. No spark, or not much of a one.’ He drew forth a knife and made the repair deftly. ‘Got some tape?’ he inquired. Pud furnished a roll, and a moment later Lank directed: ‘All right, son. Try her now.’ Pud gave her a half-turn and she answered instantly. Lank laughed his satisfaction. ‘Didn’t think to look at your wiring, I’ll bet,’ he said derisively. ‘Well, maybe you wouldn’t have found the break if you had. It _looked_ all right. Which way you boys travelin’?’ ‘South,’ said Pud promptly. ‘Where do we get out of this lake?’ ‘Well, there’s two ways,’ replied the tall stranger, seating himself. ‘There’s Flat Water Creek up at the north end that’ll take you to Fox River. It’s about four miles to the river, I’d say. Then it’s about ten miles down to The Flat.’ ‘Gee,’ muttered Pud, ‘fourteen miles!’ ‘Sure, but there’s a shorter way than that, son. Over yonder’s Cypress Branch, and that’ll land you in Two-Mile Creek back of Swamp Hole. Only thing is, you’d never find the branch, I reckon. Think they would, Cockey?’ ‘Not ’les’ we showed ’em. Not as dark as it is now, I’d say.’ ‘No, you see it’s over there in them cypress, an’ if you don’t know where to look for it you’d never find it, son. But we’re goin’ down the branch and we’ll show you the way, if you ain’t objectin’ to comp’ny.’ CHAPTER XV SET ADRIFT ‘No,’ said Pud, ‘we’d be glad to have you, of course.’ ‘Spoke like a gentleman,’ approved Cocker. ‘Here, you Rastus, carry this painter back and make it fast to the stern cleat.’ Harmon obeyed none too amiably and Pud and Tim lifted the anchor. A hoarse laugh from Cocker called the boys’ attention to the fact that he had pulled the flag-pole from the socket and was spreading the wet folds of the flag for Lank’s benefit. ‘Well, sir, looky here! If it ain’t the old Jolly Roger! Lank, this here’s a pirate craft we’re on!’ Lank only nodded, and beckoned to Pud. ‘All right, son,’ he said. ‘Head her yonder till we pick up our landmark.’ Pud took the wheel and the launch set off into the mist, bearing diagonally toward the cypress swamp. Lank stood at his back, whistling a queer little tune through his teeth. Cocker, having tossed the flag to the deck, lifted a fold of the tent and inspected it. Then he opened a locker here and there and peered inside. Tim and Harmon watched him disapprovingly.