Beth looked shocked. "I won't say that."

"'Fraid-cat. 'Fraid-cat."

Again she stamped her foot. "I won't be called that. It's not true.

I will promise not to tell. Can't you believe me?"

The boy considered. "Girls are hardly ever to be trusted, but I'll try you. In this river there is a great, big, black animal that hates fraid-cats as much as I do. He eats them up. Why, he has such fierce jaws and sharp teeth that he could gobble up a little girl like you in one mouthful."

Beth felt that her hair must be standing up on end. She would have run away, had not pride detained her--and then the recital rather fascinated her. Harvey continued, relishing the effect of his story:

"Now I have only to whistle to have the awful animal appear. His head will slowly rise above the water. His jaws will open. His teeth will gleam. If any little girl cries, he will snap at her, and it will be good-bye girl. Now, if you are not a fraid-cat you'll say, 'Harvey Baker, whistle.'"

She wanted to run more than ever, but instead she repeated slowly:

"Harvey Baker, whistle."

The boy pursed up his lips, but he then made an impressive pause, and finally pointed his finger at Beth.

"Elizabeth Davenport, remember. If you give the least little bit of a cry, you die. But, if you keep perfectly still, and never tell what you see, I am your friend for life." Thereupon he whistled very shrilly.

Beth's eyes were glued upon the water. Every little ripple seemed to her excited imagination an awful head rising to gobble her up.

However, nothing appeared. Beth gave a sigh of relief.

"Harvey Baker, you were fooling."

He motioned to her to be silent. Again, he whistled. Still no horrible head appeared. Beth was now fully convinced that he was only making believe, but still she could not take her eyes off the water.

For the third time, Harvey whistled. Suddenly the waters parted.

There, right below them, was a head more fearful than anything Beth had imagined. There was no doubt of the reality of this fearful apparition. The jaws and teeth that Harvey had spoken about were even worse than he had predicted. Slowly, slowly, those loathsome jaws parted. Beth looked down into that awful gulf, like a great dark pit, opening to receive her. There were the two rows of gleaming white teeth ready to devour girls who screamed. How she kept from screaming she never knew. Perhaps she was too much paralyzed with fear.

However, she kept so still that she hardly breathed. The color ebbed out of her face.

Harvey picked up some meat that lay on the wharf beside him, and threw that and the bread into the waiting mouth below. The jaws snapped together, and opened again as suddenly.

Beth shuddered a little, involuntarily. She wondered if she would have disappeared as quickly as the meat if she had screamed.

Harvey had no more food for the animal below. It waited an instant, then slowly sank. The waters closed where the head had been. Beth felt as though she were wakening from a horrible nightmare.

"Three cheers for Beth," cried Harvey so unexpectedly that she gave a great start.

"Was it a dragon?" asked Beth with her eyes unnaturally big.

He laughed. "A dragon---- No, indeed. It's only a 'gator."

"A 'gator---- Would it really have eaten me if I had screamed?"

"It might, although I said that to try you. They do say, though, that 'gators sometimes eat pickaninnies. The Northerners who come down here winters are killing off the 'gators pretty fast, so the pickaninnies are likely to live. Now mind, Beth, don't say a word about my 'gator.

You see if my folks heard about it, they might put a stop to my feeding it. They don't think 'gators as nice as I do."

"I think they are just horrid."

Harvey laughed. "Oh, you'll like them in time."

She had her doubts about ever being fond of such pets, but did not say so.

"I can't whistle, but would it come if I could whistle, Harvey?"

He looked very superior. "No, indeed. It won't come for any one but me."

"How did you get it to come for you?"

"Well, you see, I used to watch that 'gator in the river; then began bringing food for it. I reckon it thought that an easy way to live, and it soon grew to know me. Then it learned my whistle. That's all."

Beth now remembered that her half hour must be more than over.

"Harvey, I must go. Good-bye."

"Wait a minute. I say, I really like you, and will teach you how to fish some day."

This was the greatest compliment he could pay her, for he was an expert angler, and had never allowed a girl to share in the sport with him.

Such an invitation as he had just extended surprised even himself, but he actually hoped that it would be accepted. He even decided to set a definite time.

"Come here--well, say Monday afternoon between four and five."

"I'll come if mamma will let me."

"Remember, you mustn't tell any one about the 'gator."

"Not even mamma?"

"No, indeed. You wouldn't break your word, would you?"

"I never do that."

"You're a trump, Beth. Good-bye."

She skipped back towards the house, revelling in her adventure now that it was over. Being called a trump by Harvey pleased her, but even this praise only half reconciled her for keeping any secret from her mother.

Halfway up the avenue, a homely, impudent, scraggy little dog, sprang from among the trees and yelped at Beth. A ragged little darky followed. Beth had never seen any human being quite so ragged.

"Come 'way, Fritz. What yo' mean by jumpin' on de missy?"

Beth eyed doubtfully both the dog and his master. The latter looked at her rea.s.suringly.

"Yo' needn't be 'fraid, missy. I won't let Fritz hurt yo'."

"I--afraid--of him! He don't look as if he could harm anything," and Beth laughed.

The boy appeared grieved.