The sun was rising over the swamp when she awakened the following morning, and she sat up with difficulty, cramped by her uncomfortable position in sleep.
"I might as well be dead—with Slats," she thought, morbidly, as she viewed the desolation around her. Again she tried to rise, when the soft sound of a paddle, dipping into the quiet water attracted her attention. She waited breathlessly. Were the boys coming back so soon?
Not long afterward a canoe came into sight. Susie's heart leaped with joy when she recognized who was guiding it. The Doc!
"Doc!" she cried. "Bill Rickers!" she added, using the man's real name. "It's Susie!"
The man pulled up to the island, amazed at finding her there. In the dawning light he saw the autogiro, lying half on its side.
"Where's Slats?" he demanded.
"Dead," answered the girl, immediately. "We had a wreck.... Will you take me with you?" she begged. "I'm almost crazy here all by myself."
"I wanted to make a get-away alone," he muttered.
"You have the money!" she cried, jumping at once to the correct conclusion. "Where are the other two men?"
"Asleep at Black Jack Island."