"We have a good guide," said Harry, pointing to Washington.
The man leaned forward and peered in the darkness at the negro.
"Why, it's George Wash Jenks," he said in surprise. "Captain Dynamite's man. How are you, Wash?"
"Ah guess ah's all right, sah."
"Still guessing I see, Wash."
"Not such a mucher, sah," the negro grinned broadly.
"Well boys, you are right about your guide. You can't go wrong around here while Wash is with you. Good luck to you. You will have to travel fast to catch up to Dynamite though. He was making express time and would not even stop to shake hands. All I could get out of him was: 'Gomez—I must get to Gomez.' Nothing wrong, is there?"
"No, nothing—nothing that concerns the cause. Good-bye. Come on, Washington."
Harry turned and started into the brush.
"Not that way, Misser Harry," called Washington. "We keep by the shore a piece yet. Never get no further than six feet in there, ah guess."