res work, admitting them
without an exam. I think the population census gathering will be fine."

The other boy shook his head.

"I don't think I'd want it," he said, "at least not in a city, and I'm
going to do the manufacturing work, of course, in a city."

"Where are you going to be?" asked Hamilton.

"I took the exam in 'Frisco," the older boy replied; "that's my home
town, and I expect to work out there."

"That's quite a walk from here!" exclaimed Hamilton.

"I had to come to Washington," the boy answered "and so my people wanted
me to go and see my sister down in Florida. She married a fellow who's
busy reclaiming some swamp land down there, and he promised me a try at
alligator hunting."

"That sounds prime," suggested Hamilton, "and I should think that in
that reclamation work there would be lots of chance for it. It would
be worth watching, too, just to see how they got at that work. I should
think they would find themselves up against a pretty stiff job,
engineering down in those swamps. And then there must be barrels of
snakes, too?"

[Illustration: ALLIGATOR-CATCHING. The sport at its best; tackling a
fair sized reptile with bare hands. (_Courtesy of Outing Magazine._)]

"Water moccasins and copper-heads mostly," said his friend cheerfully,
"but you soon get so used to them that you don't mind them. It's very
seldom that you ever hear of any one being bitten by a snake. They all
seem more anxious to get out of your way than you out of theirs."

"And you're anxious enough, too!" remarked Hamilton.

"That's pretty good security, don't you think?" queried the older boy
with a laugh. "When both sides want to get away, there's not much chance
of a meeting."

"But how about the alligators?"

"That was real good sport," the other rejoined. "But I kept down to the
smaller chaps most of the time. I don't suppose there's really very much
danger, even in the big fellows, as long as you know just how to handle
them."

"I don't think I'm particularly keen about handling them," answered
Hamilton. "I shouldn't think the big ones would want more than about one
bite to put you out of business."

"That's all right," the older boy admitted, "but what's the use of
giving one that chance? Anyway, so I learned down there, it's not so
much the bite that the hunters are afraid of as the stroke of the tail.
It doesn't take such a big alligator to break your leg like a pipestem
with a sweep of that long, scaly tai