ease before you lie
down. Suppose you go."

"Suppose I do," said Freckles, with a glimmer of the old light in his
eyes and newly found strength to shoulder the otter. Together they
turned into the trail.

McLean noticed and spoke of the big black chickens.

"They've been hanging round out there for several days past," said
Freckles. "I'll tell you what I think it means. I think the old rattler
has killed something too big for him to swallow, and he's keeping guard
and won't let me chickens have it. I'm just sure, from the way the birds
have acted out there all summer, that it is the rattler's den. You watch
them now. See the way they dip and then rise, frightened like!"

Suddenly McLean turned toward him with blanching face

"Freckles!" he cried.

"My God, sir!" shuddered Freckles.

He dropped the otter, caught up his club, and plunged into the swale.
Reaching for his revolver, McLean followed. The chickens circled higher
at their coming, and the big snake lifted his head and rattled angrily.
It sank in sinuous coils at the report of McLean's revolver, and
together he and Freckles stood beside Black Jack. His fate was evident
and most horrible.

"Come," said the Boss at last. "We don't dare touch him. We will get
a sheet from Mrs. Duncan and tuck over him, to keep these swarms of
insects away, and set Hall on guard, while we find the officers."

Freckles' lips closed resolutely. He deliberately thrust his club under
Black Jack's body, and, raising him, rested it on his knee. He pulled
a long silver pin from the front of the dead man's shirt and sent it
spinning into the swale. Then he gathered up a few crumpled bright
flowers and dropped them into the pool far away.

"My soul is sick with the horror of this thing," said McLean, as he
and Freckles drove toward town. "I can't understand how Jack dared risk
creeping through the swale, even in desperation. No one knew its dangers
better than he. And why did he choose the rankest, muckiest place to
cross the swamp?"

"Don't you think, sir, it was because it was on a line with the
Limberlost south of the corduroy? The grass was tallest there, and he
counted on those willows to screen him. Once he got among them, he would
have been safe to walk by stooping. If he'd made it past that place,
he'd been sure to get out."

"Well, I'm as sorry for Jack as I know how to be," said McLean, "but
I can't help feeling relieved that our troubles are over, for now they
are.