Part 6

The swamper stared steadily at her a moment, saying nothing.

"Besides, we'd like to go deeper into the swamp just to see it," Penny urged, sensing that he was hesitating. "It must be beautiful farther in."

"It is purty," the old guide agreed. "But you have to be mighty keerful."

"Do take us," Louise pleaded.

The old trapper raised his eyes to watch a giant crane, and then slowly turned the skiff. As he sought a sluggish channel leading deeper into the swamp, Penny noticed that Coon Hawkins had shifted his position on the point, the better to watch them.

The skiff moved on into gloomy water deeply shadowed by overhanging tree limbs. Only then did Penny ask the trapper what he thought really had happened to Louise's dog.

"'Tain't easy to say," he replied, resting on the paddle a moment and taking a chew of tobacco.

Penny sensed that the old man was unwilling to express his true opinion. He stared moodily at the sluggish water, lost in deep thought.

"The Hawkins' are up to something!" Penny declared. She was tempted to reveal what she and Salt had seen a few nights before on the swamp road, but held her tongue.

"After all, what do I know about Joe?" she reflected. "He may be a close friend of the Hawkins family for all his talk about them being a shiftless lot."

Penny remained silent. Sensing her disappointment because he had not talked more freely, Trapper Joe presently remarked:

"You know, things goes on in the swamp that it's best not to see. Sometimes it hain't healthy to know too much."

"What things do you mean?" Penny asked quickly.

Old Joe however, was not to be trapped by such a direct question.

"Jest things," he returned evasively. "Purty here, hain't it?"

The guide was now paddling along a sandy shore. Overhead on a bare tree branch, two racoons drowsed after their midday meal.

"In this swamp there's places where no man has ever set foot," the guide continued. "Beyond Black Island, in the heart o' the swamp, it's as wild as when everything belonged to the Indians."

"How does one reach Black Island?" Louise inquired.

"Only a few swampers that knows all the runs would dast go that far," said Old Joe. "If ye take a wrong turn, ye kin float around fer days without findin' yer way out."

"Is there only one exit--the way we came in?" Penny asked.

"No, oncst ye git to Black Island, there's a faster way out. Ye pick yer way through a maze o' channels 'till ye come to the main one which takes ye to the Door River."

"You've made the trip?"

"Did when I was young. Hain't been to Black Island in years lately."

"How long does the trip take?"

"Not many hours if ye know the trail. But if ye take a wrong twist, y'er apt to wind up anywheres. We're headin' toward Black Island now."

"Then why not go on?" cried Penny eagerly. "It's still early."

The old guide shook his head as he paddled into deeper water. "It's jest a long, hard row and there hain't nothin' there. I'm takin' ye to a place where some purty pink orchids grow. Then we'll turn back."

Penny suddenly sat up very straight, listening intently.

From some distance away came a faint, metallic pounding sound.

"What's that noise?" she asked, puzzled.

The old trapper also was listening alertly.

Again the strange noise was repeated. Bing-ping-ping! Ping-ping!

"It sounds like someone pounding on a sheet of metal!" exclaimed Penny. "I'd say it's coming from the edge of the swamp--perhaps Lookout Island!"

The trapper nodded, still listening.

Again they heard the pounding which seemed in a queer pattern of dots and dashes.

"It's a code!" Penny declared excitedly. "Perhaps a message is being sent to someone hiding here in the swamp!"

"In all the times I've been in these waters, I never before heard nothin' like that," the guide admitted. "I wonder--"

"Yes?" Penny prodded eagerly.

But the old guide did not complete the thought. The boat now was drifting in a narrow run where boughs hung low over the water, causing the three occupants to lean far forward to avoid being brushed.

A tiny scream came from Louise's lips. The bow of the skiff where she sat had poked its nose against a protruding tree root.

Within inches of her face, staring unblinkingly into her eyes, was a large, ugly reptile!

CHAPTER 15 _BEYOND THE BOARDWALK_

"Steady! Steady!" warned the old swamper as Louise shrank back in horror from the big snake. "Don't move or he'll strike!"

Digging his paddle into the slimy bed of the narrow run, Trapper Joe inched the skiff backwards. Should the boat jar against the tree root, he knew the snake almost certainly would strike its poisonous fangs into Louise's face.

"Hurry!" she whispered.

Slowly the skiff moved backwards through the still water, until at last it lay at a safe distance. The snake had not moved from its resting place.

Now that the danger was over, Louise collapsed with a shudder.

"You saved me!" she declared gratefully.

"It weren't nothin'," he replied as he sought another run. "There's thousands o' varmints like him in this swamp."

"And to think Penny and I dared come here by ourselves the other day! We didn't realize how dangerous it was!"

The incident had so unnerved both of the girls, that some minutes elapsed before they recalled the strange pounding sound which had previously held their attention.

"I don't hear it now," Penny said, listening intently. "Just before we ran into that snake, you were about to say something, Joe."

The guide stopped paddling a moment. "Was I now?" he asked. "I don't recollect."

"We were talking about the strange noise. You said you never had heard anything like it before in the swamp. Then you added--'I wonder--'"

"Jest a-thinkin'," Joe said, picking up the paddle once more. "One does a lot o' that in the swamp."

"And not much talking," rejoined Penny, slightly annoyed. "What do you think made the noise?"

"Couldn't rightly say."

Realizing it was useless to question the old man further, Penny dropped the subject. However, she was convinced that Joe had at least a theory as to the cause of the strange pounding sound.

"He knows a lot he isn't telling," she thought. "But I'll never get a word out of him by asking."

If Joe were unwilling to discuss the signal-like tappings, he showed no reluctance in telling the girls about the swamp itself.

Wild turkey, one of the wariest fowls in the area, could be found only on the islands far interior, they learned. Although there were more than a dozen species of snakes, only three needed to be feared, the rattlers, the coral snake, and the cottonmouth.

"Ye have to be keerful when yer passin' under tunnels o' overhanging limbs," Old Joe explained. "Sometimes they'll be hangin' solid with little snakes."

"Don't tell us any more," Louise pleaded. "I'm rapidly losing enthusiasm for this place!"

"Snakes mostly minds their own business 'less a feller goes botherin' 'em," Trapper Joe remarked. "Too bad more folks ain't that way."

The boat floated on, and the heat rising from the water became increasingly unpleasant. Penny mopped her face with a handkerchief and considered asking the old man to turn back.

Before she could speak, Joe who had been peering intently at the shore, veered the skiff in that direction.

"Are the orchids here?" Louise asked in surprise.

Old Joe shook his head. "Jest want to look at something," he remarked.

He brought the skiff to shore, and looking carefully about for snakes, stepped out.

"May we go with you?" asked Penny, whose limbs had become cramped from sitting so long in one position.

"Kin if yer a mind to, but I only aim to look at that dead campfire."

"A campfire?" Penny questioned. "Where?"

The old trapper pointed to a barren, dry spot a few feet back from the water's edge, where a circle of ashes and a few charred pieces of wood lay.

"Why, I hadn't noticed it," Penny said. Wondering why the trapper should be interested in a campfire, she started to ask, but thought better of it. By remaining silent, she might learn--certainly not if she inquired directly.

Trapper Joe gazed briefly at the camp-site, kicking the dead embers with the toe of his heavy boot.

"Thet fire hain't very old--must have been built last night," he observed.

"By a swamper, I suppose," said Penny casually. "One of the Hawkins' family perhaps."

"It hain't likely they'd be comin' here after nightfall. An' that fire never was built by a swamper."

"Then a stranger must be hiding in the area!" Penny cried. "Danny Deevers!"

"Maybe so, but Danny was city-bred and never could survive long in the wilds. One night here would likely be his last."

"Supposing someone who knew the swamp were helping him?"

"Thet would make it easier, but it weren't Danny Deevers who built this fire."

"How can you be so positive?"

"Deevers was a big man, weren't he?"

"Why, fairly large, I guess."

"Then would he be leavin' little tracks?" Joe pointed to several shoeprints visible in the soft muck. "This man, whoever he be, didn't have anyone campin' with him. Leastwise, there hain't no tracks except from the one kind o' shoe."

"I guess you're right," agreed Penny, disappointed to have her theory exploded. "I wonder who did camp here?"

"I'm a-wonderin' myself," replied the old trapper. "If it's the feller thet stole my gun, I'd like pow'ful well to catch up with him."

Joe inspected the ground for some distance inland, satisfying himself that no one was about. As they returned to the boat, he said thoughtfully:

"Not in years heve I been as far as Black Island, but I've got an itch to go there now."

"Good!" chuckled Penny. "I want to see the place myself."

"It's a long, hard row. I couldn't rightly take you'uns."

"Why not?"

"Fer one thing, I hain't sure what I'll find at the island."

"All the better," laughed Penny.

But the old trapper was not to be persuaded. "The trip ain't one fer young'uns. Likewise, with three in a boat, it's hard goin'. Part o' the way, the run's so shallow, ye have to pole."

"In a polite way, he's telling us we're excess baggage," Louise said, grinning at Penny. "To me it sounds like a long, hot trip."

"I kin go another day," said the trapper. "There hain't no hurry."

"But you're well on your way there now," Penny remarked. "How long would it take to go and return here--that is, if you went alone?"

"Two hours if I made it fast."

"Then why not go?" Penny urged generously. "Isn't there somewhere Louise and I could wait?"

"Without a boat?" Louise interposed in alarm.

"I hain't suggestin' ye do it," said the old trapper. "But there is a safe place ye could wait."

"Where?" asked Penny.

"On the plank walk."

"Does it extend so far into the swamp?"

"This is a section of an old walk that was put in years ago," Joe explained. "It used to hook up with the planking at the entranceway, but it went to pieces. Folks never went to the trouble to rebuild this section."

"All right, take us there," Penny urged, ignoring Louise's worried frown. "If we're above the water, we should be safe enough."

The old trapper rowed the girls on a few yards to a series of shallow bays where water lilies and fragrant pink orchids grew in profusion. As they drew in their breath at the beautiful sight, he chuckled with pleasure.

"Purty, hain't it?" he asked. "Gatherin' posies should keep ye busy for awhile. The boardwalk's right here, and goes on fer quite a spell before it plays out. If ye stay on the walk, you'll be safe until I git back."

Louise gazed with misgiving at the old planks which were decayed and broken. As she and Penny alighted, the boards swayed at nearly every step.

"I'll pick ye up right here, soon's I can," the old guide promised. "If ye keep to the shade, ye won't git so much sunburn."

"What if you shouldn't get back before nightfall," Louise said nervously. "Wouldn't we be stranded here?"

"I'll git back."

"Where does the walk lead?" Penny asked.

"Nowheres in particular any more. Ye'd best not foller it far. Jest wait fer me purty close here, and I'll be back soon's I kin."

Reaching into the bottom of the skiff, the trapper tossed a parcel of lunch to Penny.

"Here's some meat if ye git hongry while I'm gone. Mind ye stay on the planks!"

With this final warning, Joe paddled away and soon was lost to view behind the tall bushes.

CHAPTER 16 _TREED BY A BOAR_

Left to themselves, Penny and Louise walked a few steps on the sagging planks which had been nailed to tree stumps. The boards beneath them creaked protestingly and dipped nearly into the water.

"We must have been crazy!" Louise exclaimed. "We'll die of boredom waiting here. Two hours too!"

"It is a long time."

"And if Joe shouldn't come back, we're stranded--absolutely stranded."

"We did take a chance, Louise, but I'm sure Joe can be trusted."

"He seems all right, but what do we really know about him?" Louise argued. "If anything queer is going on here in the swamp, he may be mixed up in it!"

"I thought about that," Penny admitted. "Anyway, if we're to learn anything, we had to take a certain amount of chance. I'm sure everything will be all right."

Slowly they walked on along the rickety planks, now and then bending down to pluck a water lily. Louise quickly jerked back her hand as a water snake slithered past.

"Ugh!" she gasped. "Another one of those horrid things!"

Interested to learn where the planks led, the girls followed the bridge-like trail among the trees. Louise, however, soon grew tired. As they presently came to a stump which offered a perfect resting place, she sat down.

"This is as far as I'm going," she announced.

"But we have lots of time to explore, Louise. Don't you want to learn where this boardwalk goes?"

"Not at the risk of falling into the water! At any rate, I'm tired. If you want to explore, go on alone. I'll wait for you here."

Penny hesitated, reluctant to leave her chum alone.

"Sure you won't mind, Louise?"

"I'd much rather wait here. Please go on. I know you'll never rest until you reach the end of the walk."

Thus urged. Penny, with the package of lunch still tucked under her arm, picked her way carefully along.

The board path curved on between the trees for some distance only to end abruptly where boards had rotted and floated away. After a break of several yards, the walk picked up again for a short ways, but Penny had no intention of wading through water to follow it further.

Pausing to rest before starting back, she noticed beyond the water oaks a narrow stretch of higher land covered with dense, wild growth. Above the trees a huge buzzard soared lazily.

"Ugly bird!" she thought, watching its flight.

Penny was about to turn and retrace her steps, when she noticed something else--footsteps in the muck not far from the end of the boardwalk.

"Someone has been here recently," she reflected. "Those prints must have been made since the last rain."

Even from some distance away. Penny could see that the shoemarks were small ones.

"Probably the person who made them is the same fellow who built the campfire," she thought. "Wonder where the footprints lead?"

Penny tried to draw her eyes away, but the footprints fascinated and challenged her. She longed to investigate them further. However, she had not forgotten Trapper Joe's warning that it was unsafe to leave the boardwalk.

"If I watch out for snakes and only go a short ways, what harm can it do?" she reasoned.

A moment more and Penny was off the walk, treading her way cautiously along the muddy bank. She paused to listen.

All was very quiet--so still that it gave the girl an uneasy feeling, as if she were being watched by a multitude of hostile eyes.

The footprints led to a large tree in a fairly open area. On one of the low, overhanging bushes, a bit of dark wool had been snagged.

"Someone climbed up there either to rest or sleep," Penny thought.

In the bushes close by, the girl heard a faint, rustling sound.

"Who's there?" she called sharply.

No one answered. All was still for a moment. Then again she heard the whisper of disturbed leaves.

Penny's flesh began to creep. Suddenly losing all interest in the footprints, she decided to beat a hasty retreat to the boardwalk.

The decision came too late. Before she could move, a dozen big rooters led by an old gray boar, swarmed out of the bushes, surrounding her.

Too frightened and startled to cry out, Penny huddled back against the tree trunk. The rooters had spread out in a circle and slowly were coming closer.

Retreat to the safety of the boardwalk was completely cut off. The leader of the pack now was so near that she plainly could see his razor-sharp ivory tusks. In another moment, the animal would attack.

Throwing off the paralysis of fear which gripped her, Penny swung herself into the lowermost branch of the big trees. The package of lunch she had carried, dropped from her hand, falling at the base of the trunk.

Instantly, the rooters were upon it, tearing savagely at the meat and at each other. Sick with horror, Penny clung desperately to the tree limb.

"If I slip now, I'm a gonner!" she thought. "Those rooters are half starved. If I fall, they'll attack me!"

Penny considered shouting for Louise, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Her chum probably was too far away to hear her cries. If she did come, unarmed as she was, she might leave the boardwalk only to endanger herself.

"Louise can't help me," Penny told herself. "I brought this on myself by not heeding Old Joe's warning. Now it's up to me to get out of the mess the best way I can."

The girl lay still on the limb, trying not to draw the attention of the rooters. Once they finished the meat, she was hopeful they would go away. Then she could make a dash for the walk.

Grunting and squealing, the rooters devoured the meat and looked about for more. To Penny's relief, they gradually wandered off--all except the old boar.

The leader of the pack stayed close to the big tree, eyeing the girl in the tree wickedly. Even in the dim light she could plainly see his evil little eyes and working jaws.

"Go away you big brute!" she muttered.

Penny's perch on the limb was a precarious one and her arms began to ache from the strain of holding on. Unsuccessfully, she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

"I may be treed here for hours!" she thought. "Can I hold on that long?"

The old boar showed no disposition to move off, but kept circling the tree. It seemed to the now desperate Penny, that the animal sensed she was weakening and only awaited the moment when she would tumble down to the ground.

Breaking off a small tree branch she hurled it defiantly at the boar. The act caused her to lose her balance. Frantically, she clawed for a foothold but could not obtain it. Down she slipped to the base of the tree.

The old boar, quick to see his opportunity, charged. With a scream of terror, Penny leaped aside and the animal rushed past, squealing in rage at having missed his prey.

Even now, the boar stood between the girl and the plank walk. The tree from which she had fallen, offered her only refuge, and as she measured her chances, she realized that the probability of regaining the limb was a slim one.

The boar had turned and was coming for her again.

But at that instant, as Penny froze in terror, a shot was fired from somewhere in the bushes behind her. The bullet went straight and true, stopping the boar in his tracks. He grunted, rolled over, twitched twice, and lay still.

CHAPTER 17 _RESCUE_

With a sob of relief, Penny whirled around to thank her rescuer. Through the thick leaves of the bushes she could see the shadowy figure of a man. But even as she watched, he retreated.

"Wait!" the girl cried.

There was no answer, and before she could call out a word of thanks for deliverance, the man had vanished.

His disappearance reminded her that though she had been snatched from the jaws of death, the danger by no means was over. At any moment the herd of rooters might return to attack.

Turning, Penny ran swiftly to the planked walk, in her haste not watching where she stepped. Her boots sank deeply in muck. Once on the planks well above the water level, she paused to catch her breath, and to gaze searchingly toward the bushes. All now was still.

"Who could my rescuer have been?" she mused. "Why didn't he wait for me to thank him?"

Penny called several times but received no reply. Finally, giving up, she started slowly back along the walk toward the bay where she had left Louise.

More than the girl realized, the adventure had unnerved her. She felt weak all over, and several times as she gazed steadily at the water, became dizzy and nearly lost her balance.

"Guess I'm not tough enough for swamp life," she reflected. "If ever I get out of here in one piece, I'm tempted to forget Danny Deevers and let the police do all the searching."

Footsteps became audible on the boardwalk some distance away.

Every sense now alert to danger, Penny halted to listen.

Someone was coming toward her, moving swiftly on the creaking planks.

"Penny!" called an agitated voice.

Penny relaxed as she knew that it was her chum. "Louise!" she answered, running to meet her.

Rounding a clump of bushes, and walking gingerly on the narrow boards, Louise stopped short as she beheld her friend.

"Why, you're as white as a ghost!" she exclaimed. "And I distinctly heard you shout! What happened? Did you see a snake?"

"A snake would be mild compared to what I've been through. Were you ever eaten alive?"

"Not that I recall."

"Well, I escaped it by the skin of my teeth," Penny said, rather relishing the adventure now that the story made such good telling. "I was saved by a mysterious stranger!"

Louise gazed at her chum anxiously and reached out to touch her forehead. "You're hot and feverish," she insisted. "This trip has been too much for you."

"I'm as cool as a piece of artificial ice!" Penny retorted. "Furthermore, I'm not touched by the heat!"

"Well, something is wrong with you."

"I've just had the fright of my life, that's all. If you'll give me a chance, I'll tell you what happened."

"The stage is all yours, sweet. But don't give me any tall tale about being rescued by a Prince Charming disguised as a frog!"

Penny's lips compressed into a tight line. "I can see you'll never believe the truth, Lou. So I'll prove it to you! Come with me, and I'll show you the animal that nearly made mince meat of me."

Treading single file, the girls returned the way Penny had come, to the end of the planks.

"Look over at the base of that big tree," Penny instructed, pointing. "What do you see?"

"Nothing."

"The boar that was shot--why, it should be there!" Penny scarcely could believe the sight of her own eyes. "But it's gone!"

"It's gone because it never was there. Penny, you're suffering from too much heat."

"I'm not! Neither am I imagining things! That old boar was there ten minutes ago. Either he came back to life and went off, or someone dragged him away."

"And your mysterious rescuer?" Louise teased. "What became of him?"

"I wish I knew! Lou, I'm not imagining any of this! Surely you must have heard the shot?"

"Well, I did hear something that sounded like one."

"Also, the lunch is gone. All that remains of it, is the paper lying over there by the tree."

"I do see a newspaper," Louise conceded.

"And that broken tree branch lying on the ground? I was up the tree and threw it at the boar. That's how I lost my balance and fell."

Louise now was convinced the story had solid foundation. "Start from the beginning," she urged.

Penny related what had occurred, rather building up the scene in which she had been delivered from death by the bullet shot from behind a bush.

"Whoever the man is, he must be somewhere close by," Louise said when she had finished. "Perhaps we can find him."