there till this Northern eye doctor arrives, to
perform the operation?"

"Yep; but mam guv me the money to let her into the horspittal, so she
c'n stay thar, and be looked arter till she's well. Mam sets a heap of
store by Madge; an' dad too, I reckon. They ain't gwine to sleep much
till they knows whether the operation pans out right or not."

"But how will you know, now that you have been chased out of town?"
asked Larry. "Perhaps this Tom Badger will go down the river to carry
the news?"

"Shucks, no," said the other, with a flash of pride coming over his
thin face; "I fixed that up all right. He's gwine to send a message to
weuns just as soon as he knows what's what; and we'll git the news sure
inside o' a few hours."

"But say, you don't mean to tell me there's a telegraph station in the
swamps?" ejaculated the astonished Larry.

"Nope," replied Tony, instantly. "Jest a pigeon. Tom, he knows how to
write, and he's gwine to tuck a little letter under the wing o' the
bird I fetched up."

"A carrier pigeon, you mean!" cried Larry. "Why, how fine you planned
it, Tony. Just to think of it, having the news flashed straight home,
over miles and miles of swamps. But what if a hawk got your bird, what
then?"

"I tuck up three of 'em, so's to make sure," Tony made answer. "He
promised to set 'em all free one after t'other, and each carryin' the
news. So you see, sah, one of 'em's jest bound to sure git home."

"But see here, where under the sun did you ever get carrier pigeons?
That's the last thing I'd expect to find away down in the Florida
swamps," Phil asked.

"A man in Pensacola, as knowed my mam afore she married dad, sent a
pair home to her last time they took shingles down thar, which was a
year back. I made a coop foh the birds an' they hatched out a heap o'
young uns. These hyah three is the pick o' the flock; an' I sure has
hopes o' seein' one of 'em right soon after Tom he starts 'em loose."

"Well, you've interested me a heap," declared Larry. "Why, it's just
like a story, you see. The good doctor comes, restores the sight to
your sweet little sister's eyes; and then the glorious news is flashed
home by a dove of peace and good tidings. Of course it'll be good
news, Tony. Didn't the dove bring that kind back to old Noah in the
ark? I'm awful glad you just happened to hit our boat when you wanted
some place to hide. Why, I wouldn't have missed meeting you for a
whole lot. Have you