Mrs. Jones indicated a channel which opened in a wide sweep. But before Penny had paddled far, it played out. The sun, sinking lower in the sky, warned the pair how fast time was passing.
For another hour they sought desperately to find the exit channel. Although they took turns at paddling, and used the motor whenever the passageway was not too clogged, they soon became exhausted.
“It hain’t no use,” the widow said at last. “We’re tuckered out, and we’re goin’ around in circles. We’ll pull up on shore and take a little rest.”
Penny nodded miserably.
Herons flew lazily over as the couple pulled the boat out on the soft muck. Seeking a high point of land, the widow flung herself flat on her back to rest.
For a time, Penny sat beside her, thinking over everything that had occurred. It was bitterly disappointing to realize that due purely to a stroke of bad luck, Danny Deevers undoubtedly would elude police.
“Mrs. Jones and I may not find our way out of here in twenty-four hours!” she thought. “By that time, the Hawkins’ family will have helped him escape!”
Tormented by weariness, Penny stretched out beside the widow. Insects annoyed her for awhile. Then she dozed off.
Much later when the girl awoke, she saw that her companion still slept. The shadow of dusk already was heavy upon the swamp.
Sitting up, Penny gazed resentfully across the water at an almost solid sea of floating plants.