As Bluff spoke they ceased eating and turned to gaze upstream. A boat was
advancing rapidly, with the aid of the current and a pair of stout ashen
oars. Several men occupied the craft which was quite roomy.

"Say, they've got some dogs there. Ain't those bloodhounds, Frank?"
whispered Will, for the boat was now close by, the men craning their
necks to look at the launch.

"I believe they are. Perhaps this is the sheriff on the run for our black
friend, George," returned Frank.

"Oh! I hope not. I don't believe the poor chap is as dangerous as all
that. I have an idea he's more sinned against than sinning," replied
Will, who always looked on the better side of those he met, and hence was
an easy mark for sharpers.

The men in the boat came ashore. Our friends then saw that the dogs were
of a black-and-tan color, with long ears, and the aspect that
distinguishes bloodhounds.

"Mornin', neighbors. Takin' a trip down the river, I see. That's right.
Like to see youngsters enjyin' themselves. I'm the sheriff o' this heah
county, an' these gentlemen is my deputies. We're a-lookin' fo' a desprit
scoundrel thet hes been doin' heaps o' mischief 'round heah. His latest
work was tuh rob the house o' a cotton planter named Davis, an' nigh
about kill the old man. We want him, an' we're jest 'bout determined
not tuh go back without the skunk. Don't s'pose yuh could 'a' set eyes on
sech a pizen critter, gents?" said the leader.