“Who is that yonder?” asked Virgil, and he pointed to a little undersized man with short legs and a little straw hat with a band around it, who was following along on the other side of the river.

“Never saw him and don’t know his brother,” said Doc.

Nobody had ever seen him before.

“Who invited you?” cried Virgil hotly. “Hi . . . !” and he made signs for the little undersized man to look at him, but he would not.

“Looks like a crazy man, from here,” said the Malones.

“Just don’t pay any attention to him and maybe he’ll go away,” advised Doc.

But Virgil had already swum across and was up on the other bank. He and the stranger could be seen exchanging a word apiece and then Virgil put out his hand the way he would pat a child and patted the stranger to the ground. The little man got up again just as quickly, lifted his shoulders, turned around, and walked away with his hat tilted over his eyes.

When Virgil came back he said, “Little-old man claimed he was harmless as a baby. I told him to just try horning in on this river and anything in it.”

“What did he look like up close?” asked Doc.

“I wasn’t studying how he looked,” said Virgil. “But I don’t like anybody to come looking at me that I am not familiar with.” And he shouted, “Get going!”

“Things are moving in too great a rush,” said Doc.

Brucie darted ahead and ran looking into all the bushes, lifting up their branches and looking underneath.

“Not one of the Doyles has spoke a word,” said Virgil.

“That’s because they’re not talkers,” said Doc.