"Just what I was thinking," continued Matt.
"Den ve'd pedder look a leedle oudt or ve vill be gedding indo some hod vater."
"You and Carl slip into the edge of the timber, Dick," said Matt, "and I'll go on ahead and do some reconnoitring. If the gang is there I'll find it out, and then I'll come back and we'll decide what it is best for us to do."
"You're cutting out all the rough work for yourself," demurred Dick.
"I'm the one best able to stand it," was the answer. "You're far from being yourself, old chap, and Carl is too much afraid of spooks to accomplish anything."
"I do feel a bit groggy on my feet, and that's a fact," admitted Ferral, staggering to the edge of the brush and dropping wearily down. "That nick on the head took the starch all out of me, but I'll feel better after a while. Go ahead, Matt, but don't stir up any trouble. We're not in shape to stand off that gang of pirates."
"I don't intend to let the scoundrels see me," Matt answered as he moved away.
Keeping to the edge of the timber, he was able to reach a point abreast of the hut without showing himself. From the place where he came to a halt he could look across a narrow stretch of clear ground and see a window in the rear wall of the hovel.
A look through the window would tell him all he wanted to know, and he dropped down on hands and knees and began crawling across the open space.