"Trust me for that," answered Matt. "I'll carry this," he added, taking the bag from the girl's hands.
The swamp, into which they were now headed, presented a matted tangle of undergrowth growing among the trees. Through the bushes could be seen a glimmer of stagnant water, and the whole place seemed as dank and loathsome as a tropical jungle.
The girl picked her way carefully, parting the bushes ahead of her and stepping from hummock to hummock. Finally they reached a little bare uplift of dry earth, and halted to listen. They could hear nothing of pursuit, and the girl drew a long breath of relief.
"Dad don't know that I've explored this swamp," said she. "I have lived on the island for nearly six months—dad used to keep me here while he was doing his thieving in South Chicago, so I wouldn't be able to tell what I know and give him away, I guess."
She sank down on the flat piece of turf for a few moments' rest. The ground, although dry, shivered under them as they moved, and seemed every moment as though about to give way beneath their weight and let them down into the morass.
"This is a treacherous-looking place," remarked Matt, peering off into the trees and bushes that hemmed them in on every side.
"It's all of that," replied the girl.
"It would be easy for a person to get lost."
"Not easy for me, as I know it too well."
"If I can get away in the Hawk," went on Matt, after a brief silence, "this will make it necessary for you to go with me."