They were almost across now, Mollie had stepped down onto a log. There was no water nor mud beyond it. One had to climb up a sort of rubbish-like bank. The little ones on the limb made haste to follow their leaders. Leon jerked himself forward. Leathy wasn't ready to move. The button of the waistband gave way. Leathy's little hands still clutched. At all events, she held of the top of his breeches. She hitched herself along another inch and Leon pulled ahead a good six inches. The inevitable happened. Danger and disaster were all forgotten in that tragic moment when the little fellow realized that his small twin sister had, in her eagerness to escape, exposed his rear anatomy to the cool breeze of the tree tops. At the risk of his own life he released his hold on the limb with one hand and, reaching back struck at his twin and uttered those momentous words which they all remembered in after years: "Leg-go my pants!" Leathy commenced to cry. But as they dropped, one by one upon the rubbish heap and edged their way across the log just before ascending the little slope beyond, they heard Mollie's voice calling, merrily: "Hit's all right, chil'en. We-uns air hyar. Thar hain't nawthin' ter tech us now. Git erlong up. Help Leathy, Bobbie. Jimmie, whut er yo' a-waitin' fer? Hyar's th' road by thet thar river yo'-uns war a-talkin' 'bout. Th' river's jist acrost on t'other side. Thet thar mud water runs under th' road. Thet's how them thar critters swum inter th' swamp. Git erlong, now. We-uns hes gotter fin' us a boat, so's Pete won't ketch us. Come on, Jimmie--come on!" (But Jimmie was waiting to make a gesture of defiance at the biggest alligator. Leon was tearfully struggling with his pants!) CHAPTER XXV AT THE CROSS-ROADS "Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain."--Gen. xix, 17 Down the road the children trudged, mud-smeared from head to foot, their little, bare legs scratched and bleeding, their hair matted and unkempt, clad in tattered, non-descript garments, hungry and weary to the point of exhaustion but in a veritable transport of delight. They had escaped from the ogre! They were free! Oh, what joy it was to look about them and view the sunlit landscape and admire the flowers that grew by the roadside without dread lest the harsh voice and still harsher hand of "ole Pete" descend upon them. With the vitality and exuberance of childhood they laughed and prattled, asking Mollie question after question and holding up flowers and shrubs for Baby Doris to smell of, and clutch at while she laughed her silvery, tinkling laugh and displayed her tiny white teeth and dimples. But Mollie hurried them all on. "Thar hain't time yit fer foolishment," she warned them. "Sumpin' may happen. We doan want ole Pete ter ketch us ag'in." "Shore don't," supplemented one of the boys.