However, dark shadows were deepening to blackness when the boat finally came into water open enough to permit use of the motor. Propelled by the engine, the skiff presently approached Lookout Point.
“Let’s paddle from here,” proposed Penny. “Ezekiel and his sons may be out of the swamp by this time. We don’t want them to see us or guess where we’ve been.”
Mrs. Jones shut off the motor and with a tired sigh, offered the paddle to Penny. The channel now was plainly marked and easy to follow, even in semi-darkness. Whenever the girl hesitated, the widow told her which way to steer.
“We’re out of it now,” Mrs. Jones said as lights of the Hawkins’ farmhouse twinkled through the trees. “Reckon Trapper Joe’s fit to be tied, we been gone so long!”
Penny allowed the skiff to drift with the current. As it floated past the Hawkins’ dock, loud voices came from the direction of the woodshed.
“Sounds like an argument goin’ on,” observed the widow.
Penny brought the skiff in and made fast to the dock.
“What ye aimin’ to do?” the widow inquired in surprise.
“Wait here!” Penny whispered. “I have a hunch what’s going on and I must find out!” Before Mrs. Jones could protest, she slipped away into the darkness.
Stealthily the girl approached the woodshed. A voice which she recognized as Ezekiel’s, now plainly could be heard.