A flush spread over the girl's face and she appeared to shrink and wilt; and in the swift glance she cast at Payne there seemed an appeal for help.
Payne spoke swiftly.
"We are truly sorry to intrude. We blundered in here on our way to the head of the river. If we can get directions we will be on our way at once."
The girl looked from her aunt to Ramos and then to Payne, and her chin went up.
"Come," she said, and led the way to the boathouse on the lake shore.
"Oh, Willy Tiger!"
As mild and stoical a Seminole Indian as ever belied his surname responded to her call. He smiled at the sight of her, an appalling feat for a Seminole; and the smile confessed he was her abject slave.
"Willy, you will do a favor for me, won't you? I want you to take these two friends of mine up to the head of the river, wherever that is. My friends. For me, Willy."
The Seminole silently disappeared and returned paddling a long dugout into which he tossed his rifle and a bundle containing his camping outfit.
"My name's Roger Payne," said Roger, preparing to follow Higgins into the boat. "I am under obligations, Miss——"
She did not respond to his suggestive pause.