Ted responded eagerly, describing the situation as he understood it and showing that the outlook was not as promising as it had been. He indicated that Russia had dropped out and was "no good any more," that Italy was hard pressed, that France was wearing out, and that England's safety was threatened by Germany's submarines.

"It depends on the United States," the boy declared. "We've got to end this war. We've got to be in a big hurry to put two million soldiers in the field, and every able-bodied young man is needed." Then, his zeal overcoming his prudence, he excitedly added: "I don't see how you men can stay here in this swamp at such a time. I--I--I'd be _ashamed_!"

Buck Hardy winced. Sweet Jackson sat erect with a threatening look. The other slackers shifted their positions uneasily and frowned, some of them uttering low e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of astonishment. July paused in his noisy sc.r.a.ping of a pot and stood at attention. Hubert nudged Ted warningly and urged him in a whisper to hold his tongue.

"Who's ashamed!" cried Sweet Jackson derisively. "I ain't, for one.

'Tain't none of my quiltin'. What them Germans ever done to _me_? I never heard tell of 'em till lately."

"You'll hear of 'em a plenty if they ever get this country," said Ted, shaking off Hubert's hand. The boy was too excited and eager to speak his mind to count the costs. "They'll rob you of every dollar, and if you don't walk the line they chalk you'll be shot in your tracks. They haven't had a chance yet to do anything to _you_. The thing to think about is what they've done to other countries and what they intend to do to ours if they can. Do you want them to give Texas and a half dozen more States out that way to Mexico, as the Kaiser promised to do, if Mexico would help him conquer this country?"

"Texas is a fur ways, and big enough to take care of itself, too," said Sweet, serenely indifferent.

"That's a fine way to look at it!" Ted was quick to retort, scorn in his tone. "Will your right hand feel that way if somebody walks up and whacks off your left?"

"They could never do it," spoke up Buck Hardy quietly. "The Germans nor n.o.body else could ever take this country."

"That depends on what sort of a fight we put up and how quick we are about it," insisted Ted. "I read the papers a lot, and listen to men talk, too, and sometimes it looks as if even England may have to give in. If the Germans get England and the British fleet, what will happen then? Why, they'll get Canada, of course, and get ready to invade us anywhere across a three-thousand mile border line. _Then_ we'll have it!"

"Canada and New York and Ohio and Chicago is a fur ways," remarked Sweet, yawning. "If the Germans do get 'em, what's that to us 'way down h-yuh?"

"What's that to _us_ if the richest part of our country falls into the hands of the enemy!" cried Ted, losing his patience and with it all sense of prudence. "You make me sick. As I was about to say just now, it all depends on how many of us go out and fight and how many of us go and hide in a swamp."

Again Buck Hardy winced, and all the lounging slackers sat up, startled, staring at Ted as if scarcely able to believe that they had heard aright. As a general murmuring began, Sweet Jackson leaped to his feet.

"Billy, go get me a big switch," he ordered. "I've got to give that sa.s.sy boy a good frailin'. He's too big for his breeches. I aim to teach him a lesson right now."

"No, you won't," said Buck Hardy, who had also risen to his feet. "I like that boy. I like his s.p.u.n.k. And anybody who lays a hand on him has got me to whip. I put you all on notice," he concluded, turning from the furious but perceptibly checked Jackson and sweeping an eye over the seated slackers.

"Well, Buck Hardy," argued Sweet in a vain attempt to disguise his surrender, "if you're goin' to play the fool in this thing you'll be sorry."

"Aw, set down and let the boy talk," said Buck, resuming his own seat on the gra.s.s. "You don't have to agree with him. Let him talk; it's interestin'. Go on, kid."

But Ted seemed to think that he had said enough for the present, and for once he was not ready to speak. Buck Hardy himself broke the silence that followed.

"There's another thing I want to say," he announced. "I ain't in this swamp because I'm a-scared to fight. If they'd a let me alone, it would a' been all right, but when they up and pa.s.sed a force-law, draftin'

everybody whether or no, I got mad."

Then Ted found his voice, opening his mouth to speak impetuously, but Hubert grabbed him by the arm to check him and this time the younger boy would not be denied.

"Hush!--don't!" Hubert whispered urgently. "Don't tell him he was free to enlist and try to put him in a hole. He's our _friend_."

Ted saw the force of this in time and shut off his coming flood words, saying only:

"I didn't think you were afraid, Mr. Hardy. And it is very good of you to be willing for me to speak out, and I thank you very much."

Then the "c.o.c.k of the walk" himself seemed to think that it would be better to change the subject, for he began to speak about an interesting incident of the day's hunting. But the conversation soon dragged, the slackers yawning drowsily. One by one they rose and disappeared, until only Buck, Sweet and the two boys were left by the fire. Finally Sweet rose, saying:

"What you aim to do with them boys to-night, Buck? We got to keep our eye on them boys."

"They'll sleep with me," was the answer.

Shortly afterward Buck Hardy lighted a torch and bade the boys follow him. He led them beneath the curious log house standing so high in the air--a precaution against snakes in summer--and climbed by a ladder through a square opening in the floor. Pa.s.sing the sleeping men, whose faces even in the case of the least pleasing seemed softened in slumber, Hardy led the way to the extreme end of the room. Giving the torch to Ted, he scattered and broadened his really comfortable bed of leaves and Spanish moss so as to make room for the two boys between himself and the wall. There appeared to be no window in all the structure, but apparently sufficient air entered between the logs of the walls and through the wide door in the floor.

After the light was put out Ted recalled Sweet Jackson's "We got to keep our eye on them boys," with its suggestion of possible captivity at least for a time; but both he and Hubert were too tired to speculate or worry about their situation, and they soon forgot everything in sound sleep.

VII

When Ted and Hubert awoke next morning they were alone in the sleeping-loft. Descending the ladder, they found July at the fire with breakfast awaiting them; and after they had washed their hands and faces, the negro pouring water for them, they ate heartily. It appeared that all but two or three of the slackers had already gone off to their traps, or hunting, and even these two or three were nowhere to be seen just now.

As the boys breakfasted, it was noticeable that July's manner toward Ted was markedly respectful and that his eye frequently rested upon the Boy Scout uniform. Suddenly the young negro stood still in front of Ted and thus addressed him:

"Hubut tole me las' night de President 'p'int you dispatch carrier. Did de President sen' you in dis swamp to git after dese slackers, too?"

"Of course not."

"Did Guv'nor Dorsey sen' you?"

"No."

"Did Judge Ridgway sen' you?"

"No."

"Den, how come you talk so uppity, like a man wid de law on he side and ain't a-scared o' n.o.body?"

"I don't know, July," replied Ted, amused, smiling, yet serious. "When I get started I'm so interested that I forget to be scared."

"Well, you sho is a _man_, if you is des a boy. You sho is a cap'n. Dey ought to call you 'Cap'n Ted.'" The young negro's wonder and admiration were manifest.

"That's very nice of you, July," stammered Ted, embarra.s.sed and blushing.

"You sho did talk up to dem white mens. You didn't leave 'em a leg to stand on."

"How about _you_?" asked Ted, with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you got any more legs than they have?"

July guffawed loudly, enjoying the joke at his own expense. "Who, me?"

he laughed again. "I's ready to go to de waw if dey promus to put me where dem Germans can't p'int a gun at me."

Ted and Hubert laughed heartily, vastly amused, and the latter said: "Don't you think all slackers are as ready as that?"

"I got sump'n to tell you," said July, hastening to change an embarra.s.sing subject. "Dem young white mens hole a meetin' dis mawnin'

and dey voted on what to do about you boys. I couldn't hear much o' dey talk, but I think dey voted Mr. Buck Hardy down."

"But I thought you said he was the 'c.o.c.k of the walk,' and he certainly stood them all down last night," commented Ted.