The high water grass loomed up and Penny’s feet struck a muddy bottom. With the boat almost upon her, she plunged into the morass. The water came to armpit level. Pushing aside the thick stalks which wrapped themselves about her arms and body, she waded far into the patch before she paused.
Hidden by the dense growth, she could not at first see the pursuing boat. She knew, however, that it had halted at the edge of the patch, for the motor had been cut off.
And after awhile she heard voices, low spoken, but nevertheless clear, for the slightest sound carried over water.
“She’s over there somewhere in the center of the patch!” one of the men muttered. “I could tell where she went by the way the grass moved. Shall we let her go?”
“No, we got to get her or she’ll tell everything she knows to old man Gandiss and the police!” the other answered.
With the motor shut off, the two men then took out paddles, and began to force the boat through the jungle of grass. Observing that they were coming straight toward her, Penny noiselessly waded on, taking every precaution not to move the stalks unnecessarily. Noting the direction of the wind, she went with it, hoping that any movement of the grass would appear to be caused by the stiff breeze.
But she hoped in vain. For suddenly Joe the Sweeper shouted hoarsely:
“There she is! Over there!” He pointed with his paddle blade.
The men pushed the boat on, smashing the grass ahead of them. In despair, Penny saw that wherever she went she was leaving a trail of trampled, broken grass behind her.
No longer trying to prevent splashes, she waded in a wide half-circle. Then quickly she back-tracked, this time making not a sound. Slipping into the dense growth just beside the trail she had made, she breathlessly waited.