“I was jest about to give you up,” the widow remarked as the girl scrambled into the boat. “Did ye learn what ye wanted to know?”
Penny told her what she had seen.
“’Pears you may be right about it bein’ a signal,” the widow agreed thoughtfully. “We may be able to learn more too, ’cause whoever had his’n ears tuned to Ma Hawkins’ signal may figure we’re deep in the swamp by this time.”
“Let’s keep on the alert as we near Lookout Point,” Penny urged.
Mrs. Jones nodded and silently dipped the paddle.
Soon they came within view of the point. Passing beneath an overhanging tree branch, the widow grasped it with one hand, causing the skiff to swing sideways into a shelter of leaves.
“See anyone, Penelope?” she whispered.
“Not a soul.”
“Then maybe we was wrong about Ma Hawkins signalling anyone.”
“But I do see a boat beached on the point!” Penny added. “And see! Someone is coming out of the bush now!”