"I had a glimpse of a big fellow hovering under the boat at dusk. I think
he was after the refuse we threw over. Would he hurt a swimmer?" asked
Bluff.

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to try his appetite, that's all. Could you
give the beast a shot without hitting the man, Bluff?" asked Frank
eagerly.

"Why, yes; for at this short distance the shot won't scatter much."

As he spoke Bluff took quick aim. He was only too glad to be able to make
use of his gun in so good a cause. The thief might be all they painted
him, and yet he was a white man, and a minister's son in the bargain, the
sheriff had said.

With the heavy report there was a combination of sounds. The man in the
water gave a yell, as though he fancied the shot had been aimed at him. A
short distance away, the water was being threshed wildly by some unwieldy
object.

"I hit him all right!" shouted the excited marksman.

Some vigorous language came floating across from where the man was now
dragging himself out of the river.

"Say, Bob Young! You didn't think we shot at you, did you? There was a
big 'gator after you, and he'd got you, too, only for that shot. Better
make yourself scarce around these regions. The sheriff is after you, with
dogs and a posse."