y found no footing, and was in his haste making
a bad job out of what might otherwise have been easy work.

Afterwards, when he figured matters over, Phil realized that he could
not have been more than three seconds in making that frantic dive for
the gun, snatching it up in his eager hands, and swinging around once
more so that he could have a clear view of the water where this
excitement was transpiring. And yet at the time it seemed to him as
though an hour must have elapsed, so great was the mental strain.

What he saw caused him to stare as though he could hardly believe his
eyes; it was all like a strange dream, this actual realization of the
story which Tony had been telling them that afternoon.

The alligator bull was still in sight. He had managed to turn about,
so that his ugly snout was pointing directly toward the spot where
Larry was still kicking and splashing at a terrific rate in his attempt
to be a sailor, and climb a rope, something he had possibly never
practiced, the more the pity.

How Tony had ever managed to accomplish it in that very short space of
time Phil could never guess; but even as he looked he saw the swamp lad
astride the back of the angry 'gator, close up to his head.

The saurian was lashing the water into foam. Perhaps he had just
managed to get sight of the struggling Larry, and intended to swim
straight for him, had not a new and unexpected enemy suddenly taken a
hand in the game.

Gripping his gun Phil crouched there on the deck of the motor boat,
staring at the little swamp boy. Tony was grinning widely as though he
delighted in proving in this practical way how true his remarkable
story of the afternoon had been.

And looking, Phil saw him lean quickly forward. He seemed to thrust
both hands out, with the thumbs turned down, as though seeking the only
vulnerable point about that mail-clad head.

"The eyes--he's trying to stick his thumbs in the 'gator's little
eyes!" gasped the astounded and thrilled watcher.

He no longer thought of attempting to make use of the weapon he held in
his own hands. What was the need when Tony had things all his own way?
And holding his very breath with awe Phil Lancing watched the bold play
of the swamp boy, who had been accustomed to the ways of alligators
from infancy.

"He's done it!" burst from the lips of the one spectator, as a terrific
bellow burst from the twelve foot saurian, undoubtedly of pain and rage
combined at having