"We'll be over the town in a minute," said Brady, "and then it won't be long until we get to the swamp."
"What swamp?" asked Matt.
"Never ye mind," was Pete's surly rejoinder. "Ye're here to obey orders an' not ask any fool questions."
"I don't think it very foolish for a fellow to ask where he's being taken."
"Mebby not, but ye ain't findin' anythin' out, see?"
Matt had been doing a good deal of guessing about Carl. What would his chum do? What was he doing then? He felt pretty sure that Carl would get into the house and go through it from cellar to roof.
But Matt knew that Carl had a good sensible head in cases of emergency. Now and again the Dutch boy's temper was apt to make trouble with his reasoning, but in the long run Carl could always be counted on to do the right thing.
So Matt was not worrying very much about his chum. Carl would take good care of the blue prints and ultimately they would find their rightful owner.
"Ha!" exclaimed Brady, suddenly, "there's the signal! I'll go back and take charge of the motor while we make the landing, Pete, and you take the lookout."
Matt gave place to Brady and then stood at the rail, watching developments curiously.