There was a flash of fire from the darkness on shore, the report of a gun, and a bullet whirred through the air, cutting the professor's speech short, and causing him to duck down into the canoe.
"Those fellows have located us," said Frank, swiftly. "We must get away immediately. Remember, wait at the hut."
Socato's paddle dropped without a sound into the water, and the canoe slid away into the night.
The professor and Barney lost no time in moving, and it was well they did so, for, a few seconds later, another shot came from the shore, and the bullet skipped along the water just where the canoes had been.
Frank trusted everything to Socato, even though he had never seen or heard of the Seminole before. Something about the voice of the Indian convinced the boy that he was honest, for all that his darkness was such that Frank could not see his face and did not know how he looked.
The Indian sent the canoe through the water with a speed and silence that was a revelation to Frank Merriwell. The paddle made no sound, and it seemed that the prow of the canoe scarcely raised a ripple, for all that they were gliding along so swiftly.
"Where are you going?" whispered Frank, observing that they were leaving the camp-fire astern.
"White boy trust Socato?"
"If I didn't, I shouldn't be here. Of course, I do."
"Then keep cool. Socato take him round to place where we can come up behind bad white men. We try to fool 'um."