"I'm doing what I think is right, and that always helps a person's courage. I'm more worried about you than I am about myself. If anything should go wrong—if anything should happen to you because of the help you are giving me——"
For the first time her voice faltered. Matt reached out and caught her hand reassuringly.
"Don't fret about me," said he. "There won't be any trouble about my getting the best of Whipple, with you to help. Is the Hawk all ready for a flight? I mean is there plenty of gasoline in the tank, and plenty of oil?"
"Yes, dad has seen to that. So far as the air-ship is concerned, it is ready to carry you quickly and safely out of the swamp. Now I will steal out of the hut and talk with Whipple."
Once more she started for the door. Hardly had she reached it, however, when she drew back with a gasp of consternation. Turning, she beckoned to Matt.
"Too late!" she whispered, her voice sharp with anguish and disappointment. "Oh, why have they come just at this time!"
Matt glided quickly to her side and peered out through the half-opened door.
What he saw was well calculated to discourage him and the girl.