“Some white men that came into the ’glades?” repeated Frank.
“Yes, massa,” said Quatty, “dot’s de bery meaning I intend to convey.”
“Where are these white men?” demanded Frank and Harry in the same breath.
“Long way from here, far in de ’glades. Dem sabages is werry much scairt of dem,” went on Quatty, “one time dey go near dere camp and some man he throw something make noise like de worl’ he comin’ to an en’ and blow big hole in de groun’.”
“It must be the men we are after,” exclaimed Frank tensely.
“And the stuff they threw was Chapinite,” added Harry.
“Are they still here?” was Frank’s next question. He was keenly afraid of receiving a negative answer, and his voice almost trembled as he spoke.
“Yes, sah, dey’s still here shu nuff,” rejoined Quatty. “We never go near dem since dat day, but all de time we see smoke and at night dere is red flames go up from de island where dey camp. We tink dey debbils for sho’.”
The boys were almost wild with excitement. Even Ben Stubbs’ face lit up at this unexpected good fortune. It meant that instead of wasting days seeking the abductors of Lieutenant Chapin and the stealers of the formula they would be able, if this Bahama negro could guide them, to go direct to the spot after they had laid a plan of campaign.
“Could you guide us to this place, Quatty?” asked Frank.