"Well, I guess you can postpone your investigation for a while," suggested Russ. "It's getting dark, Uncle, and we'd like to get back to the steamer. Now, if you'll pilot us we'll pay you well, and see that you get back in the morning. You can stay on the Magnolia to-night—if we find her."
"Oh, I'll find her, all right—don't yo' all let dat fret yo'!" chuckled the negro. "I knows jest where's she tied. It's a few miles from heah, but in dat choo-choo boat yo' all kin soon be dere."
Leaving his own boat on shore the colored man got into the motor boat with the others. The rowboat from the steamer was towed, and in it were left the rugs, blankets, moving picture camera and other things.
The two Madison sisters brought away with them a box of rare orchid specimens, the results of their search.
"I wish I could get a moving picture of this; but I can't," sighed Russ, as the motor boat started off in the twilight. Soon it became so dark that the searchlight was set aglow, and this gave a fine illumination.
But Uncle Joshua, which the negro said was his only name, seemed to need no light. In and out among the creeks, rivers, and bayous he directed Russ to steer, until finally, making a turn in a stream, there burst out on the eager eyes of the refugees the lights of the steamer.
"Magnolia ahoy!"
"Here we are!"
"Oh, Daddy, Daddy!"
"On board the Magnolia!"