"I am not so afraid of spooks as I am of---- Jumping Jupiter!"

There was a flash of fire from the darkness on sh.o.r.e, the report of a gun, and a bullet whirred through the air, cutting the professor's speech short, and causing him to duck down into the canoe.

"Those fellows have located us," said Frank, swiftly. "We must get away immediately. Remember, wait at the hut."

Socato's paddle dropped without a sound into the water, and the canoe slid away into the night.

The professor and Barney lost no time in moving, and it was well they did so, for, a few seconds later, another shot came from the sh.o.r.e, and the bullet skipped along the water just where the canoes had been.

Frank trusted everything to Socato, even though he had never seen or heard of the Seminole before. Something about the voice of the Indian convinced the boy that he was honest, for all that his darkness was such that Frank could not see his face and did not know how he looked.

The Indian sent the canoe through the water with a speed and silence that was a revelation to Frank Merriwell. The paddle made no sound, and it seemed that the prow of the canoe scarcely raised a ripple, for all that they were gliding along so swiftly.

"Where are you going?" whispered Frank, observing that they were leaving the camp-fire astern.

"White boy trust Socato?"

"If I didn't, I shouldn't be here. Of course, I do."

"Then keep cool. Socato take him round to place where we can come up behind bad white men. We try to fool 'um."

"Good!"

The light of the camp-fire died out, and then, a few moments later, another camp-fire seemed to glow across a strip of low land.

"See it?" whispered the Indian, with caution.

"Yes. What party is camped there--friends of yours, Socato?"

"Not much!"

"Who, then?"

"That same fire."

"Same fire as which?"

"One bad white men build."

Frank was astonished.

"Oh, say! how is that? We left that fire behind us, Socato."

"And we have come round by the water till it is before us again."

This was true, but the darkness had been so intense that Frank did not see how their course was changing.

"I see how you mean to come up behind them," said the boy. "You are going to land and cross to their camp."

"That right. They won't look for us that way."

"I reckon not."

Soon the rushes closed in on either side, and the Indian sent the canoe twisting in and out amid their tall stalks like a creeping panther. He seemed to know every inch of the way, and followed it as well as if it were broad noonday.

Frank's admiration for the fellow grew with each moment, and he felt that he could, indeed, trust Socato.

"If we save that girl and the old man, you shall be well paid for the job," declared the boy, feeling that it was well to dangle a reward before the Indian's mental vision.

"It is good," was the whispered retort. "Socato is poor."

In a few moments they crept through the rushes till the canoe lay close to a bank, and the Indian directed Frank to get out.

The camp-fire could not be seen from that position, but the boy well knew it was not far away.

Taking his bow, with the quiver of arrows slung to his back, the lad left the canoe, being followed immediately by the Seminole, who lifted the prow of the frail craft out upon the bank, and then led the way.

Pa.s.sing round a thick ma.s.s of reeds, they soon reached a position where they could see the camp-fire and the moving forms of the sailors. Just as they reached this position, Leslie Gage was seen to dash up to the fire and kick the burning brands in various directions.

"He has done that so that the firelight might not reveal them to us,"

thought Frank. "They still believe us near, although they know not where we are."

Crouching and creeping, Socato led the way, and Frank followed closely, wondering what scheme the Indian could have in his head, yet trusting everything to his sagacity.

In a short time they were near enough to hear the conversation of the bewildered and alarmed sailors. The men were certain a band of savages were close at hand, for they did not dream that the arrow which had dropped Jaggers was fired by the hand of a white person.

"The sooner we get away from here, the better it will be for us,"

declared Leslie Gage.

"We'll have to get away in the boats," said a grizzled villainous-looking, one-eyed old sailor, who was known as Ben Bowsprit.

"Fo' de Lawd's sake!" gasped the third sailor, who was a negro, called Black Tom; "how's we gwine to run right out dar whar de critter am dat fired de arrer inter Jack Jaggers?"

"The 'critter' doesn't seem to be there any longer," a.s.sured Gage.

"Those two shots must have frightened him away."

"That's right," agreed Bowsprit. "This has been an unlucky stop fer us, mates. Tomlinson is dead, an' Jaggers----"

"I ain't dead, but I'm bleedin', bleedin', bleedin'!" moaned the fellow who had been hit by Frank's arrow. "There's a big tear in my shoulder, an' I'm afeared I've made my last cruise."

"It serves you right," came harshly from the boy leader of the ruffianly crew. "Tomlinson attempted to set himself up as head of this crew--as captain over me. You backed him. All the time, you knew I was the leader in every move we have made."

"And a pretty pa.s.s you have led us to!" whined the wounded wretch.

"Where's the money you said the captain had stored away? Where's the reward we'd receive for the captain alive and well? We turned mutineers at your instigation, and what have we made of it? We've set the law agin' us, an' here we are. The _Bonny Elsie_ has gone up in smoke----"

"Through the carelessness of a lot of drunken fools!" snarled Gage. "She should not have been burned. But for that, we wouldn't be here now, hiding from officers of the law."

"Well, here we are," growled Ben Bowsprit, "an' shiver my timbers if we seem able to get out of this howlin' swamp! The more we try, the more we seem ter git lost."