"One guess is as good as another, mate," replied Dick. "We'll know who the fellow is, maybe, when we get to the bayou."
"Und meppy nod," said Carl. "Meppy dose fellers haf a drap all sed for us, und dot ve vill trop indo it und mix oop mit all kindts oof oxcidement."
"That's right, Carl," growled Dick. "You're the original wet blanket. Why don't you square away and look on the bright side? The job that's set for us is hard enough without any of your croaking."
"I don'd vas croaking!" protested Carl. "I look on der plack site, und den, ven der pright site shows oop ve like him pedder pecause ve don't oxbect it. I am jeerful all der dime. Ask Matt aboudt dot."
"Carl's intentions are good, Dick," said Matt. "You must give him credit for that. We both know the prospect ahead of us isn't any too pleasing. We're going it blind and trusting to luck. The more I think about that letter, however, the more confidence I have in the good intentions of the writer. Whistler, you know, used to work on a plantation near Bayou Yamousa. It's easy to suppose that he has a knowledge of the country in that section, and that knowledge will stand the gang in hand, now that they're looking for a place to lay low."
"That's a fact," agreed Dick. "We'll get alongside those duffing beach combers, and then it will be up to us to lay them aboard and grab the diamonds. We'll do it," he added stoutly. "Motor Matt's along, and Motor Matt's luck is with us."
Light as the bird after which she was named, the Hawk skimmed through the sunlit air, five hundred feet above the "Father of Waters." Boats below, bound for New Orleans or outward to the Gulf, were passed, many a glass being trained on the air ship and its passengers.
Matt and his chums had gone over this route once before, and now, while they were taking the back track, they remembered the landmarks and guided the Hawk accordingly.
After two hours of sailing over the river, Dick sighted their turning point and gave the order for an easterly course. The Hawk swung around, answering the steering rudder easily. The motor worked perfectly, and the air ship swerved and shifted with the slightest touch on the guiding lever.
"And that swab who belongs to the Aëro Club wants to buy the Hawk!" scoffed Dick. "We'll never sell her, Matt. If it's money we want, we can make more with the air ship than we could in any other line of business. Besides, who'd change this air flying for anything else under heaven? I'd flog the cat all the days of my life if we were ever foolish enough to let go of this craft."