ut Lil
Artha proved himself to be an artful as well as clever driver. He
managed to coax them along, and there was little doubt now that they
would reach their intended destination inside of a short time.

This was a farmer's place that lay adjacent to the swamp at the head of
the solitary lake. Here they would arrange to leave their team while
searching the dark recesses of the swamp. As all of them had had
considerable experience in such unsavory places they believed they knew
fairly well how to go about the hunt.

"Well, we ought to fetch that old farm mighty soon now, I should think,
Elmer," remarked the driver, as he flecked the back of the off-horse to
disturb a big green fly that was trying to stab the sweat-covered
animal in a tender spot.

"From what I've been able to find out, and what I know in the bargain
from my own experience up here," the patrol leader explained, "the head
of the lake lies just beyond that patch of willow trees, and we'll see
the farmhouse as soon as we make the next turn. Easy there, Art, you
came near dumping us then."

"The pesky old road is so narrow it's hard to keep going straight,"
complained the other, in disgust; for one wheel had, indeed, slipped
over the edge, and their escape from a bad spill had been what Lil
Artha himself would have called a "close shave."

"I reckon suh, Sassafras Swamp must lie over in that direction then?"
remarked Chatz, pointing as he spoke.

"Just what it does," replied Elmer.

"It looks particularly gloomy, I should say," remarked Toby.

"Swamps always do, you must know," Elmer told him; "some of them are
always half dark even in the middle of the day. That's because of the
jumble of vines that hang from tree to tree, and the canopy of branches
overhead. Why, down South, as Chatz here can tell you, where Spanish
moss covers the trees, it's almost dark in some swamps."

"But, Elmer, there's one thing I just don't understand," suggested
Landy.

"Out with it then; and if I can explain I'll be only too willing," he
was told.

"Supposing now for the sake of argument that stranger was a bad man who
had escaped from a sheriff somewhere, when being taken to the
penitentiary; and that he managed to get a strangle hold on our chum,
Hen Condit, so that the other just had to do whatever he was told--get
all that, do you? Well, if they skipped out of Hickory Ridge night
before last, how under the sun could they get away up here in a day or
so