"And where are you going?"
"Out of the swamp—across the state, and then over to our island. The yacht's due there tomorrow—I want to be ready to go with it."
"O.K. with me," agreed Susie, as if she had been invited to go. "Let's push off now—or wait—we'll eat some breakfast. There's beans and cold tea."
"Maybe you could be some use," remarked the man, as he ate the meager breakfast. "If we could get a plane. And I am sorry for you, Kid—all alone here with Slats dead."
Susie gave him no chance to change his mind. Hobbling out to the little "house" where the boys had put the blanket and the extra food, she picked up the former, smoothed her dress and her hair, and returned to announce herself ready. They pushed off again, following the little stream out of the swamp.
"How do you expect to get across the state?" asked the girl, wearily, when late that afternoon, they brought their canoe to a landing. She had slept a little in the boat, but she was still very tired.
"Hitch-hike, I reckon," was the reply. "If we go hirin' any cars, somebody might get suspicious. Once at the coast, I count on rentin' a little fishing-boat from some fellow—one big enough to take us to the island."
"I can't hitch-hike," objected Susie.
"Don't then,—stay here," answered the man, indifferently.