For a minnit I was scared, and even Mark Tidd looked kind of blue around the gills, as dad says. But then I thought Ole and Jerry and Mr. Hogtoter wouldn’t let Collins and Jiggins take us off the scow, so I quit being frightened.

Ole got up and poked his head out of the door.

“Hello!” says Jiggins again. “Seen a couple of boys in a canoe?”

Ole turned around to us and grinned, then he called to Jiggins, “Ay tank so.”

“How long ago?”

“Ay tank one hour.”

Then I heard Collins say something in an undertone.

“Good idea,” says Jiggins. “Do no harm. May do some good. I’ll ask him.” Then he called up to Ole: “D’you know Mr. Bell—Hieronymous Alphabet Bell?”

“Ay tank ay know him,” says Ole.

“Know where he is?” asked Jiggins.

Mark jumped to his feet. “Don’t—” he started to say to Ole.

But for once the big Swede answered right off without any fooling. “He bane go to Ludington.”

“When?”

“Nine-ten o’clock.”

Mark was banging Ole on the back. “Don’t tell him any m-m-more,” says he. “They’re enemies. They’re t-t-tryin’ to smouge Uncle Hieronymous’s mine.” Then he ran right out on deck.

“G-g-go on away,” says he. “You can’t f-find out any more. You’re b-beat!”

“Well, I swan!” says Jiggins. “Howdy, Mark. Hard work gettin’ out of that boat-house. Had to find another boat. But here we are.”

Sure enough, they did have another boat. They must have found it somewhere along the river near the boat-house.

Jiggins didn’t seem to be much discouraged. “Well,” says he, “we enjoyed your company. Sure we did. Nice boy. Brains. Always liked boys with brains—especially fat boys. Good-by. Ludington, eh? He’s in Ludington. Well, Mark Tidd, we’re off for Ludington. Beat, eh? Not yet. Not yet.” They pushed off their boat and started down-stream. “Good-by,” says Jiggins again. “I’ll give your regards to Uncle Hieronymous. Good-by.”

Mark didn’t wait a minnit. “G-g-got to beat ’em to Ludington,” says he. “No time to waste.” He thought a minnit. “When does the t-t-train leave Scottville?”

“Long about nine o’clock,” says Mr. Hogtoter.

“How far’s Scottville?”

“Two mile.”

“H-h-how do we get there?”

“Walk,” says Mr. Hogtoter. “There’s a road back there a spell.” He jerked his thumb up the bank. “But they’ll beat you. You’ll git lost or somethin’.”

“What time is it?”

“Half past six.”

Mark thought and pinched his cheek. “That g-gives us two hours and a half,” says he. “Come on, Binney. Will s-s-somebody show us the road?”

“Ay tank ay show you,” says Ole.

“Ay tank ay show you, too,” says Jerry.

“Come on, then,” Mark says, quick. “We can’t l-lose any time.”

We said good-by to Mr. Hogtoter, and I told him I hoped he wouldn’t have any bad luck. He said he was expecting some every minnit, and he said, too, he was sure we were in for some.

“Be careful,” says he. “Not that bein’ careful is any good. If you’re goin’ to have misfortune, takin’ care don’t help a bit. Never helped me. Looks to me like Hieronymous was in for misfortune.”

We climbed the bank with Ole and Jerry, and, not having either time or breath to say anything, we made off across the fields toward the road without any talk. It was maybe a quarter of a mile.

“You find Scottville now, ay tank,” says Ole.

“Sure,” says Jerry, “ay tank so, too.”

“Good-by,” says Mark, “and m-much obliged.”

“Good-by,” says Ole and Jerry, and then we were off alone. Once I looked back. They were still standing where we left them, laughing as hard as they could laugh. There isn’t a bit of doubt they thought Mark Tidd was the funniest person they ever saw.

We walked as fast as we could, and got to Scottville in plenty of time. Mark bought the tickets, because he had the money. We had elected him treasurer, so he had all there was. Then we sat down on the depot platform to wait for the train. It was getting dusk, which turned out to be a pretty lucky thing for us. It was lucky, too, that we were sitting near a corner of the depot. In spite of Mr. Hogtoter we were having good luck for a while, anyhow.

Just as the train whistled down the tra............