They raised their fresh young voices in a combined call that certainly must have carried to both shores. Then they waited, but nothing happened. Again they called, and again—several times.

"I'll give the first man who comes for us in a boat all the chocolates I have left," bribed Grace. No one appeared to accept.

Again they called, after a little rest, and a sipping of what remained of the orangeade. But to no purpose did their appeals for aid float across across the stretch of muddy water.

Once more Betty tried reversing the engine, and again the girls pushed with the oars and pole. The Gem remained fast on the sandy bar.

"I wonder how it would do if I got out and dug around the bow?" suggested Betty. "The water is shallow on the bar—hardly over my ankles."

"Don't you do it!" cried Grace. "Those horrid——"

"Hark!" cried Mollie, with upraised hand, "I hear something."

Through the stillness they could all note the regular staccato puffing of the exhaust of a gasoline motor. It drew nearer.

"It's a boat coming!" cried Betty.

A moment later a motor craft swung into view around an upper bend, coming swiftly down the river. But at the sight of it the girls gave a gasp, for it was filled with roughly dressed colored men, while in the stern sat a white man of even more villainous appearance than the blacks. And the boat was headed straight for the stranded Gem. Help was coming indeed, but it was of doubtful quality.



CHAPTER XI

INTO THE INTERIOR

"Oh, dear!" cried Grace, as she shrank back against Betty. "Oh, dear."

"Those—those men," breathed Amy, who also seemed to be looking about for some sort of physical support. "See, Betty!"

They both seemed to depend on the "Little Captain" in this emergency. As for Mollie, her dark eyes flashed, and she looked at Betty with a nod of encouragement. Whatever happened, these two would stand together, at any rate.

"Don't be silly!" exclaimed Betty, stilling the wild beating of her own heart by the reflection that she must be brave for the sake of others.

"But they are coming right toward us!" gasped Grace, making a move as though to hide in the cabin.

"Of course they are!" exclaimed Mollie, quickly. "They are going to help us; aren't they, Betty?"

"I'm sure I hope so," was the low-voiced answer. "One thing, girls, speak very carefully. Sound carries very distinctly over water, you know."

"They are coming toward us," added Amy, shrinking closer to Betty. There was no doubt of that. The eyes of all in the approaching motor boat, which was a powerful craft, were fixed on the girls in the Gem, and it was a strange sight to see the eyes of the colored men, with so much of the white showing in contrast to their dark faces, staring fixedly at our friends. Grace caught herself in a half-hysterical laugh.

"They looked just like those queer china dolls," she explained afterward.

The white man steering the boat was almost as dark in complexion as were his companions, but at least he was white—the girls were sure of that.

"I guess they know we have run on a sand bar," Betty explained, in as calm a voice as she could bring to her need. "They are avoiding it themselves."

As she spoke the other boat made a wide sweep and then, having gone down past the Gem, it again swept in on a curve, now being headed up stream.

"Stuck?" called the white steersman, and his voice was not unpleasant, though a bit domineering, Betty thought.

"But perhaps this is because he is used to giving orders," she reflected.

"Yes; we are on a sand bar, I'm afraid," she answered, and smiled.

"Look natural!" she commanded to the others a moment later, her voice not reaching the men in the other craft, she felt sure, for the clutch of the relief boat had been thrown out and the engine was racing, making considerable noise. "Look as though we expected this," Betty commanded. "There's nothing to fear. We are not far from home."

"Lots of folks get stuck on that bar," went on the man, who was bringing his boat into a position favorable for giving aid to the Gem. "It ought to be buoyed, or marked in some way. You're strangers around here, I take it," he went on.

"Yes, from Mr. Stonington's orange grove," said Betty, simply. "If you will kindly pull us off this bar we will gladly pay you for your trouble."

Was it fancy, or did Betty detect fierce and eager gleams in the eyes of the colored men?

"Oh, shucks!" exclaimed the steersman, quickly. "I've pulled lots of bigger boats than yours off that bar. And not for pay, neither. Can you catch a rope?"

"Oh, yes," said Mollie, quickly, determined to second Betty's efforts to appear at ease. "We've done considerable cruising."

"That's good. Well, you want to know this river before you do much more. It's treacherous. Sam, throw that rope while I put us up a little closer," he commanded.

"Yes, boss," was the reply of a big colored man in the bow.

Both Mollie and Betty grasped for the rope as it came uncoiling toward them.

"That's good," complimented the man. "Now can you make it fast? Have you a ring-bolt there?"

"No, but there's a deck-cleat," spoke Betty.

"Just the same. Now, then, I'm going to turn about and try to haul you off, pointing my bow down stream. This boat works better on the direct clutch than in reverse. And when I start to pull, you'd better reverse your motor. Can you do it?"

"Oh, yes," answered Betty.

"Good. You do know something about boats. So you're from the orange grove; eh? I heard the new owner had come on. Need any men down there?" and he seemed quite business-like.

"I—I don't know," faltered Betty, looking at Amy. "Mr. Stonington hasn't told us anything about that. This is his niece," and she nodded at Amy.

"Oh, is that so! Well, if he should happen to need any pickers, I can supply him. Hank Belton is my name. I supply laborers for lots of orange growers and others. I'm the biggest dealer in labor around here; ain't I, boys?" and he appealed to the colored men.

"Dat's what you am, boss!" exclaimed one, with a chuckle.

"And I always treats my help right, no matter what happens after they hire out; don't I, boys?"

"Suah!" came in a chorus.

"So just remind Mr. Stonington about me," the man went on with what he evidently meant for a friendly smile, but which made the girls shudder. "My place is at Penbrook—about ten miles up the river. Now, then, have you that rope fast?"

"Yes," answered Betty.

"Get ready then—I'm going to pull you. And start your motor as soon as the tow rope gets taut!"

"All right," answered Betty in business-like tones.

The tow rope straightened out as the other motor boat started down stream. Betty watched, and, when she thought the proper time had come, she started her motor on the reverse.

For a moment it seemed that, even with this, the Gem would not come off the bar, and the girls looked anxiously over the side to detect the first motion.

Then there came a quiver to the stranded boat, and a shout from the colored men:

"She's movin', boss!"

"Turn on a little more gas!" cried the steersman to Betty. "I think we have her now!"

She speeded up her motor, and in another instant the Gem came free so suddenly that there was danger of a collision.

"Shut down!" called Hank Belton quickly. "You're all right now."

Betty turned off the power, and Mollie cast loose the tow rope.

"Thank you very much," she called to the man.

"I wish you would let us pay you," added Betty.

"Nary a pay, Miss," was his answer. "I'm glad I could help you. Just give my message to Mr. Stonington, and I'll be obliged to you. Better back down a bit before you turn. That bar sticks out a ways. It's a wonder you didn't hit it before. You can't draw much."

"We don't!" answered Betty.

The other boat was proceeding down stream now, the colored men looking back with their rolling eyes. Betty started her engine on the reverse again, and then, feeling sure that they were beyond the bar, she turned and steered her craft back toward the orange grove. The picnic plan was given up now as it was getting late and the girls were tired.

"Thank goodness that's over!" exclaimed Grace, with a sigh of relief. "Oh, I was so frightened!"

"At what?" asked Mollie.

"I—I don't know."

"Well, it was very kind of them," said Betty. "We might have had to stay there a long time."

"And I'm going to tell Uncle Stonington," spoke Amy. "He may want to hire men, for there are many more oranges to pick."

Grace sat thoughtfully on the cushions, neglecting even to eat her chocolates.

"'A penny for your thoughts,'" offered Betty.

"I was just wondering," said Grace slowly, "that perhaps that man might know something of the labor contractor who has Will in the toils. I wish I had thought to ask."

"That's so!" cried Mollie. "But we can find him again. It will give us something to do, Betty. We can come up the river again."

"And I'll be sure to keep away from that sand bar," declared the Little Captain.

Mr. and Mrs. Stonington were quite alarmed when the girls told of their adventure.

"They weren't in any real danger," declared Mr. Hammond, the overseer. "The river isn't deep nor swift, and there are boats going up and down quite often."

"But what about those rough men?" asked Mrs. Stonington.

"Oh, rough is the worst thing you can say against them. They aren't really bad. Belton has the best supply of laborers around here. Probably he was taking those men down to Hanson's grove. We will need pickers ourselves next week, Mr. Stonington, and I don't believe we can do any better than to get them from Belton."

"Very well, Mr. Hammond; whatever you say."

"And that will be a chance to repay him for his kindness to us," added Betty.

"And perhaps we can get some news of my brother," spoke Grace, wistfully, for there had come no word from those who were searching for the missing youth.

"I'd like to go and ask myself," went on Grace.

"Well, there's no reason why you shouldn't," said Mr. Hammond. "I'll be going up the river in a day or so, and if you think we'll hire of Belton I'll tell him so," he said to Mr. Stonington.

"Yes, if you like, Mr. Hammond."

"All right, then I'll pilot the girls to his camp if their boat will hold me."

"Indeed it will!" exclaimed Betty, "and you can tell me how to avoid sand bars."

"Belton's place is a little way into the interior from the river," went on Mr. Hammond, "but it's a safe road."

"Then we'll go," decided Betty.

The next few days were filled with small incidents of little interest. The girls motored about, and did some fishing in the river, catching a variety of specimens, few of which were pronounced fit for the table. But they enjoyed themselves very much.

They wandered about in the orange grove, eating as much of the delicious fruit as they chose. Sometimes they took walks with Mrs. Stonington, who was slowly regaining her health. Mr. Stonington was kept busy seeing to the details of the business, that was new to him.

One night Mr. Hammond said:

"I think we'll need those pickers to-morrow, or next day, Mr. Stonington."

"Very well, then get them. The girls can take you up to Belton's camp."

"And perhaps I can get some word of Will," observed Grace hopefully.

The trip up the river was devoid of incident, except that Betty nearly ran on another sand bar, being warned just in time by Mr. Hammond. Then they reached the landing where Belton's boat was moored.

"That shows he's in camp," said the foreman, as he helped the girls tie the Gem. Then they struck off into the interior, not a few doubts tugging at the girls' hearts. It was very wild and desolate, the Everglades being not far distant.



CHAPTER XII

A WARNING

Trailing vines hung from great trees on either side of the path. Large bunches of Spanish moss festooned other monarchs of the forest, which seemed gloomy indeed as the girls gazed off into it. Now and then some creature of the woods, disturbed by the passage of the party, would take flight and scurry off, fly away or slink deeper into the fastness, according to its nature.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Grace in a low voice, as she walked along behind Betty, "I don't like it here!"

"Why not?" asked Mollie, who was in the rear of Grace. "I think it is most romantic. Just think—we may be treading over the very ground where de Leon and his men searched for that fountain of perpetual youth."

"What was that?" asked Mr. Hammond, turning about interestedly.

"Oh, one of the old discoverers was searching for a fountain to keep him young," explained Betty, with a smile.

"Huh! He'd better be careful of what he drinks in these woods," said the overseer. "There's water that's deadly poison, to say nothing of the moccasins and copperheads in some of the swamps. If that fellow is a friend of yours warn him to be careful."

"Oh, he died some years ago," explained Mollie, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, well, then that's all right," and the overseer seemed relieved. "Yes, you want to be careful of what you drink in these wilds. Of course a good clear spring is all right, and generally you'll find a cocoanut shell, or something like that, near it to drink from. That's a sign it's good water."

"What are those other things?" asked Amy. "Cottontails—did you call them—do you mean rabbits?"

"No, indeed. I mean snakes."

"Oh!" screamed the girls in chorus.

"They call 'em cotton mouths because their lips are white," Mr. Hammond explained, "and it looks as though they were chewing cotton. They're deadly too, and so are the copperheads, which look just like that color. Be careful of 'em."

"I—I don't believe I want to go any farther," faltered Grace, hanging back.

"Oh, there's none along this trail!" the overseer hastened to assure her. "It's only where there's not much travel. Just keep a sharp lookout—that's all."

They went on in Indian file, for the path was narrow. As they penetrated deeper into the interior the woods became more and more gloomy until even brave Betty began to feel a bit doubtful as to the wisdom of coming. But she knew Mr. Hammond could be trusted to see that no harm came to them.

The path widened now and they came to a little clearing. On one edge of it stood a hut before which was an old man—so old in fact that to the outdoor girls he seemed like a wizened monkey.

"Mercy! Who's that?" whispered Mollie.

"An Indian," answered Mr. Hammond.

"An Indian?" queried Betty.

"Yes, one of the Seminoles. He's all right, and a friend of mine. Hello, Ko-dah!" called Mr. Hammond, adding something in a sort of jargon, to which the aged man replied. He seemed more like a negro than an Indian.

"He claims to be over a hundred years old," went on Mr. Hammond, as he and the party passed through the clearing. "And he sure looks it. His wife is nearly as old."

As they went on they heard ahead of them the not unpleasant strains of a negro melody.

"What's that?" asked Grace, coming to a stop.

"We're near Belton's place," explained the foreman. "He keeps quite a lot of hands in readiness, and they pass away the time singing and eating until they're hired. I hope he has some good ones for us. The oranges need picking quickly now."

A minute later the party emerged into a large clearing about which were grouped many huts, in front of which, and lolling in the shade of some, were a score or more of colored men. They set up a call for "Boss," as Mr. Hammond came in sight.

"Howdy, Hammond!" greeted the labor contractor, as he came out of the best-looking house in the clearing. "Why, it's the girls I hauled off the sand bar!" he added, as he recognized Betty and her chums. "Did you get home all right?"

"Yes, and we've come to do as you said, and hire some help for Mr. Stonington," ventured Betty, blushing a bit at her boldness.

"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Belton. "I've got just the kind of pickers you want, Hammond. Quick, cheerful lot of boys, that will work from sunrise to sunset."

"That's what you always say," laughed Mr. Hammond. "I guess they won't be much worse than the usual run. Now let's talk business," and the two men walked off to one side.

"Oh, I forgot," called the contractor. "Young ladies, my wife is up in that cabin," and he pointed to the one he had just left. "She'll be glad to see you and make you a cup of tea. Sue!" he called, "take care of Mr. Stonington's girls!" and a woman appearing in the doorway waved a friendly greeting to the chums.

Over the teacups, in a cleaner and neater cabin than one would suspect it to be from a glance at the outside, the girls told of their trip. Mrs. Belton said her husband had told her of their predicament on the sand bar.

"How do you like it in Florida?" she asked, after a pause.

"I'd like it better if I could find my brother," said Grace. "He's here—lost—in some turpentine swamp, we are afraid. I wonder if Mr. Belton could give us any information, since he is in the labor contracting business?"

"You can ask him when he comes back," said his wife.

"And if we can get any trace of Will we'll go there and get him out of the clutches of those men," went on Grace.

Mrs. Belton started from her chair.

"Don't you do it, honey! Don't you do it!" she exclaimed earnestly. "Keep away from the turpentine camps whatever you do. There's a desperate lot of men there—convicts a lot of 'em, and there's worse men guarding 'em. Keep away if you know what is good for you," and she looked earnestly at Grace, who paled as she thought of poor Will.



CHAPTER XIII

A STRANGE TOW

Betty, as well as Grace, Mollie and Amy, seemed much taken aback by the earnest words of Mrs. Belton. The wife of the labor contractor seemed under stress of some excitement, as she faced the girls after the warning.

"Don't go!" she went on. "Don't any of you think of going! I used to think my husband dealt with a rough enough class of men, but those in the interior—in the turpentine camps, and cypress swamps—oh, they are the most lawless element you can imagine. And no wonder, for no men, unless they are compelled, will work with those contractors. They have to keep their men just like prisoners."

"Oh, dear, don't tell me any more!" begged Grace, her eyes filling with tears as she thought of her brother.

"But perhaps Will isn't treated as the others are," suggested Betty, giving the woman a look she understood. "He went there under different circumstances than the others, and he may receive consideration."

"Of course I don't know all the circumstances," went on Mrs. Belton as she nodded at Betty to show that she would be more careful in what she said. "He may be favored. Of course not all the contractors are cruel, but they have to deal with a bad class of men, and that makes them harsh, perhaps. But take my advice, and don't go near one of those places under any circumstances. Please don't!"

"Don't go where?" asked her husband, coming in at that moment with Mr. Hammond. "Are the girls thinking of going cruising among the Everglades?" and he laughed heartily. Betty was beginning to like him very much, as were the other girls. He was rough, and uncouth, but he seemed honest and sincere, and his wife, a hard-working woman, had given of her best hospitality to the visitors.

"No, they weren't talking of the Everglades," said Mrs. Belton. "This young lady thinks her brother may have been taken to one of the turpentine camps, or other camps in the interior, and she wants to rescue him. I was telling her to keep away."

"And that's good advice," agreed Mr. Belton, more seriously than he had yet spoken. "I don't mind mixing up with some men, but those contract laborers are pretty bad. My men are nothing to them, though I do get a hard customer once in a while."

"But what can we do?" Grace besought. "If Will is there we must get him away! Of course I'm not sure, but papa is looking everywhere for him, and the best clue we got was that he was somewhere in the interior of here."

"Then take my advice, and let the authorities do the searching," said Mr. Belton. "The season won't last much longer, and they may discharge a lot of their men—these contractors may. Then your brother could come out of his own accord."

"Oh, but it is so long to wait!" cried Grace. "Surely there must be some way," and she looked pleadingly at the two men.

"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Belton slowly. "I'll do all I can to help you, and so will any of my men. And I think Hammond, here, will say the same thing."

"Surely!" exclaimed the overseer. "But the question is—what could we do?"

"We'd first have to locate the camp," said the labor man. "After that we could talk business. It would depend on who was running it, and where it was. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, and when I hear anything I'll let you know, Miss. What sort of a looking young man might your brother be?"

Grace described Will accurately, enough so that Mr. Belton said he would know him if he saw or heard of him.

"And now are you young ladies ready to go back?" asked Mr. Hammond, as he smiled at Betty and her chums.

"Quite," she answered. "We have had a good view of the interior of Florida."

"Oh, shucks!" exclaimed the labor contractor. "Begging your pardon, Miss, for that kind of talk. But you haven't seen anything of the interior yet. There's parts I wouldn't want to trust myself to, not with all of my men behind me, and I'm not a scary sort of an individual, either. There's parts no one has ever been in, I reckon. Don't you say so, Hammond?"

"That's what I do!" was the emphatic answer. "Well, are you ready, girls?"

They left, bidding Mr. and Mrs. Belton good-bye, and Grace received renewed promises that all possible would be done to locate her brother.

Mr. Belton promised to bring a boat-load of laborers to the orange grove in the morning, and as the visitors left they heard the soft strains of one of the negro songs following them through the deep woods. The effect was weird in the extreme, especially when they reached the denser parts of the forest.

Good time was made back to "Orangeade," as the girls had christened the bungalow in the grove, the boat running well. Mr. Hammond complimented the girls on the manner in which they ran the craft, each taking a turn at steering, while the overseer imparted instructions as to various sand bars and shallow places along the course.

Mr. Stonington was much interested in the report brought back by the girls regarding the lawlessness of the interior camps, and he agreed with Mr. Hammond that if any attempt at a rescue should be made a number of reliable men must be taken along.

"And I must write to father!" exclaimed Grace, "and ask if he has any clues. He may be able to give us some aid in locating the neighborhood of the camp. Oh, if Will could only know we are here, and would send us a letter! Just think, girls! He doesn't even know we are in Florida!"

"It does seem strange," remarked Mollie. "Usually wherever we go we see the boys once in a while."

"It is lonesome without them," said Betty impulsively. "I wonder if there is any chance of them coming down this summer?"

"It's winter—up where they are," remarked Amy.

"Oh, every place is summer to Betty when she thinks of a certain young man; summer and orange blossoms," drawled Grace.

"Don't be silly!" snapped Betty, with a vivid blush. "You know I meant all the boys—not one!"

"Selfish girl—she wants them all!" laughed Mollie.

Glorious were they—those winter days in Florida, where the outdoor girls enjoyed themselves to the utmost. Had it not been for one little rift in the lute, their pleasure and happiness would have been complete—and that rift was the absence of Will. Grace seemed to feel it more keenly as day passed day and no word came.

Her father did write saying that the inquiry was progressing slowly, and that it would take some time to have scanned each list of minor offenders who had been "hired" out to contractors under an old law, operative only in certain cases. As for naming any special locality where Will might be, that was impossible, as yet.

Mrs. Stonington seemed very much improved by her stay in the South, but she was not yet out of danger, the doctor said, and must use care. Her husband and Amy were still anxious about her, and watched her carefully; for, though she was no relation to Amy, she still acted, and in reality was, almost as a mother to the girl.

Amy's newly-found brother paid one visit to the bungalow in the orange grove, but could not stay long, as his business was increasing. He reported all well in Deepdale.

"By the way," he said with a chuckle, "those old friends of yours, Alice Jallow and Kittie Rossmore, have started a sort of automobile club. I guess they're trying to rival you."

"They're not friends of ours," said Mollie quickly, "and as for being rivals—we refuse to consider them as such."

"Well, I don't blame you."

The orange picking was in full swing now, and the girls spent many happy days in the grove. They learned many new ways of eating oranges, and marveled at the difference in flavor of the fruit picked from the trees, from that as they recalled it in the North.

The laborers supplied by Mr. Belton had proved to be good workers, and more were sent for, the girls taking Mr. Hammond up to the clearing in the motor boat to arrange about them. Grace hoped to have some news of her brother, but the contractor said he had not been able to get any clues.

It was about a week after this, on a fine sunny day, not as warm as some of its predecessors, that Betty proposed a trip in her motor boat.

"Let's go quite a distance up the river," she suggested. "There are new sights to see, Mr. Hammond says, and no bars to run upon after we pass the landing where Mr. Belton docks. We may find some new streams or lakes to explore, for we've been all over Lake Chad." This was so, the girls soon having exhausted the possibilities of that body of water.

"I'm willing," agreed Mollie.

"And we can take our lunch, and stay all day," added Grace. "Oh dear! I wish someone would invent non-melting chocolate!" she complained, for her fingers were stained with the half-liquid confection.

"Some non-eating ones would be better," said Mollie, with a laugh. "Just the kind you look at, you know."

"I don't think that's funny," spoke Grace, slightly elevating her pretty nose.

Finally they got started, after repeated injunctions from Mrs. Stonington to "be careful," to all of which they dutifully promised obedience.

The trip was a delightful one, and no accidents marred it. They swept on up the river, which had hardly current enough to be noticeable. They paused to admire pretty spots, and stopped for lunch in a "perfect fairyland of a grove," to quote Amy. The Gem was anchored near an overhanging tree which served to permit the girls to go ashore dry-shod.

Merry indeed was the luncheon. Grace was passing the olives, when she happened to glance toward the boat. Her surprise caused her to drop the bottle in the box of crackers, as she cried:

"Betty—look, your boat is adrift!"

"So it is!" agreed the Little Captain, standing up. "I thought we anchored it securely."

"And look!" added Mollie, as she pointed. "It's going up stream! Can the engine have started of itself?"

"No, the clutch is out," said Betty, running down to the shore. "Something is towing the boat up stream. See, the anchor rope is extended out in front!"



CHAPTER XIV

THE TATTERED YOUTH

Betty Nelson reached the bank of the river and stopped. She could go no farther for the muddy water stretched itself at her feet. But her boat—the trim little Gem—was moving slowly up the stream under the influence of the mysterious something that was towing it away from the girls.

"Oh!" cried Grace. "What can we do? Betty—Mollie! We must stop it."

"Yes; but how?" asked Mollie. She and the others had followed Betty to the shore.

"We must find another boat, and catch the Gem!" cried Amy. "It isn't going very fast."

"If we only could!" murmured Betty, looking helplessly around. But no other boat was in sight. "We must do something," she went on. "We'll be marooned if we stay here!"

"But what can be towing our boat?" asked Mollie. She stood on the bank, nervously twining her fingers in and out, weaving them back and forth as she always did when puzzled or alarmed. "Is it the current taking it away, Betty?"

"But it's going against the current," Grace pointed out. "Some animal must have become entangled in the anchor or painter, Betty. An alligator, perhaps."

"That's it!" cried Mollie. "An alligator is running away with our boat. Oh, Betty!"

"It may be that," admitted the Little Captain, as she gazed after her craft. "I didn't think of it, but that's probably what it is. I don't see the beast above the water, though. Do you, girls?"

There was nothing visible except part of the anchor rope that extended from the ring-bolt in the forward deck, over the stem and slanting down into the water.

"The alligator may be swimming just below the surface," was Mollie's opinion. "He may come up pretty soon, and we can throw stones at it. That's it, Betty. We must stone the creature and make it let go. Come on!"

Betty laughed. The others looked at Mollie curiously.

"She—she's hysterical," murmured Grace.

"I am not!" protested Mollie indignantly.

"But the idea of throwing stones at an alligator!" cried Grace. "Why, its hide will turn a bullet!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Amy blankly. "Then what can we do? We have no bullets!"

"It isn't going very fast," observed Mollie as she watched the boat moving slowly up the river. "We can run along the bank after it, and maybe the beast will let go, or run ashore with the Gem. Then we could get it."

"Who—the boat or the alligator?" asked Betty, who seemed to be in better spirits now, even in the face of trouble.

"The boat, of course."

"Then speak of the Gem as 'her' and the alligator as 'it,'" Betty directed. "But I believe Mollie's plan is the only one we can adopt. We must follow along the bank. Only I hope, if the alligator does let go, it won't be in the middle of the river, for then our boat would float down, and it might lodge on the other shore. Then we would be as badly off as we are now. Oh, what a predicament! We seem to be getting into nothing but trouble of late."

"Never mind," consoled Amy. "Maybe this will be the last."

"It's a comfort to think so, anyhow," agreed Grace. "I wonder why an alligator ran off with our boat?"

"A mere accident," was Betty's opinion. "Probably the creature was swimming along shore, and became entangled in our anchor rope. It may be as much frightened as we are distressed. But come on, if we're going to try to get the boat."

Stumbling over the uneven way, the girls raced along the river bank. Sometimes the boat appeared to be coming close in shore, and again it would veer out.

"I've just thought of something!" exclaimed Amy as they came up nearly opposite the boat, for it was being towed more slowly now, as though the creature having it in charge found it harder work.

"Then do, for goodness sake, tell us what it is," demanded Mollie. "I'm about played out."

"If we threw stones on the other side of the alligator—I mean across, between him and the other shore—it might scare him over this way."

"Oh!" screamed Grace. "Don't you dare scare him over here!"

"I didn't mean right here," went on Amy. "I only meant farther in toward this shore. Then he might run aground and we could wade out and get the boat."

"Wade in the water that has an alligator in it!" cried Grace with a shudder. "Never!"

"Well, it might be a good plan to try," spoke Betty. "I see what Amy means. When we were little, and used to play with toy boats, if one went out too far we used to throw stones in the water beyond it, and the waves would sometimes send it ashore. Now, if we did that, the alligator might think someone on the other bank was throwing things at him, and he would come over here. It's worth trying."

"I am certain I can't throw straight," complained Grace.

"Oh, well, this isn't a ball game," said Mollie. "Any sort of throwing will do for an alligator. Come on, now, all together."

In spite of her protest, Grace managed to do fairly at the stone-throwing. In fact the outdoor girls were what their name implied—they could do many things that outdoor boys could do, and throwing stones was one of their accomplishments. They had not played basket ball for nothing.

A shower of missiles fell into the water on the far side of whatever creature was towing the Gem. For a few minutes no effect was produced, and then the creature under water did seem to veer over toward the shore where the girls were slowly walking along.

"Gracious! If he really comes here!" cried Grace, getting ready to beat a retreat.

"I'm afraid there's not much danger," spoke Betty, in a low tone. "He seems too fond of our boat."

"Throw more stones!" directed Mollie, and another shower of small rocks sailed through the air to fall with many splashes into the turbid water.

There was a swirl in the river just in front of the Gem, as though the creature towing it objected to the treatment it was receiving. And then, as the girls, anxiously watching, prepared to send another volley of stones, Amy uttered a cry, and pointed up the river toward a small point of land that jutted out into the stream.

"Look!" she cried. "A man in a boat!"

They all gazed to where she indicated, and beheld not a man, but a ragged youth standing up in a broad bottomed scow, poling himself down stream. He was headed directly for the Gem.

"Oh, he is just in time!" cried Mollie. "He'll get our boat for us!"

"Call to him!" directed Grace. "I'm so nervous that I can't speak above a whisper."

Mollie raised her voice in an appeal for help.

"Hello, there!" she called. "Our boat! Right in front of you! Can you get it? Scare away the alligator! It's towing our boat off! Please get it!"

The ragged youth looked up, startled, and glanced from the boat, seemingly moving up stream without any visible propelling agency, to the four girls on the shore. He seemed much surprised, and acted, as Betty said afterward, as though he would like to run away. She called to him:

"Look out for the alligator! Don't get into danger!"

The ragged youth now seemed to comprehend what was wanted of him. He poled his clumsy craft toward the Gem and peered down into the water to see what manner of creature was at the other end of the anchor rope. Then he waved his pole at the girls, as though to reassure them, and edged nearer the motor boat.

"All right!" he called, in a quick, nervous manner. "I see him. I'll get him for you."

"Gracious—I wonder if he means the boat or the alligator?" said Mollie. "I hope he understands that we don't want both—only the boat."

"Oh, he'll know," declared Betty. She was eagerly watching the actions of the ragged youth in the scow.

Suddenly he drew something from his pocket and held it close to the water, leaning over the edge of his craft.

There was a puff of smoke, a flash of fire, and a report that sounded very loudly to the girls.

"Oh!" cried Grace, covering her ears with her hands.

"Be quiet, silly!" exclaimed Betty. "It was the only thing he could do. He shot at the alligator."

Again the revolver of the ragged youth sounded loudly and, a little cloud of smoke floated over his boat. Then he shouted:

"I hit him! I hit him!"

He was seen to reach over with his pole, and fish for something in the water.

"I hope he isn't going to bring it ashore—the alligator, I mean!" cried Mollie. "We want the boat. Get the boat!" she called to the ragged youth.



CHAPTER XV

THE TWO MEN

The girls need have had no fears. The youth in the boat seemed to know what he was doing. He was pulling up the anchor rope now, and a moment later he had the grapple in his scow. Then he let his craft slip down stream until he was below the Gem and in a position to tow it.

As he did this there was a swirl in the water just above him, and a queerly-shaped body half arose, falling back with a splash.

The girls had a glimpse of something like a seal, with a queer head, not unlike that of a small hippopotamus.

"Look!" cried Mollie. "That was no alligator! What in the world is it?"

"That's a manatee—a sea-cow, some folks call 'em!" answered the ragged youth, as he poled his boat toward them, towing the Gem. "They're harmless, but I had to shoot this one to make him let go. I didn't hurt him much. I never see one so far inland as this, though. I'll have your boat there in a minute."

"Don't hurry," said Betty kindly. "As long as she's safe we are all right. It's awfully kind of you to get her for us. We thought an alligator had her."

"It was rather queer," said the ragged youth. "I never see a boat towed by a manatee before. I'll be ashore in a minute."

He was poling his scow over toward the girls, towing their boat in, aided by the current. A little later he had leaped ashore with the rope, pulling the anchor after him.

"We're a thousand times obliged to you!" exclaimed Mollie, impulsively. "We never should have known what to do without our boat. We're from Bentonville."

"Yes? That's quite a ways down." The youth, in spite of his rags, had a good-looking face and a pleasant manner. He seemed restless and afraid, and was constantly glancing about him, as though in fear of seeing someone or something he did not care to encounter.

"Would you—I mean, can we do anything for you?" half stammered Betty. She wanted to offer him money, but she did not quite know how he would accept it. "If you are going down stream," she went on, "we could take you as far as we are going. If you would come with us, perhaps——"

"Oh, no, I couldn't think of it!" the youth cried—cried out in very fear, it seemed to Mollie, who was observing him narrowly. "I must go on—go on alone. I am going for help!"

"For help!" exclaimed Betty. "What is the trouble? Perhaps we can help you. We are from Mr. Stonington's orange grove, and if we told him you needed help——"

"No, no!" interrupted the youth, glancing about him nervously. "It isn't that kind of help. I am trying to help someone else. I—I can't tell you. But I must be getting on. And will you do me a favor?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course!" cried Betty. "We will be only too glad to, since you did so much for us. Only for you our boat might be far up the river now. What can we do for you?"

"Don't tell anyone you saw me," begged the youth, earnestly. "There are those who would stop me—take me back where I came from. They are after me—they may be below me, trying to head me off. If you meet them—meet any rough-looking men who ask for me—don't tell them about me. Don't set them after me, please."

"You may be sure we will not!" exclaimed Betty, warmly. "Are you from——"

"Please don't ask me!" he exclaimed. "It is so much easier to throw them off the trail if you really know nothing. So don't question me."

"Very well, we won't. But if you are escaping, perhaps you need money——"

"No, I have some, thank you," and he showed a small roll of bills. "He gave it to me," and he seemed to indicate, by a nod, someone farther up the stream.

"Then do you think you will be all right?" asked Mollie. Amy and Grace had taken no part in the talk. They seemed to be content to look at the strange youth who had rendered the outdoor girls such a service.

"Oh, yes, I'll be all right," was the answer, but the ragged youth looked about him apprehensively. "I must be getting on now, after help—for him. Don't say you saw me—don't tell them anything about me."

"We won't," promised Betty. "You may rely on us."

"Thank you—good-bye!" He stepped into his skiff and quickly poled out from shore, dropping down with the current. The girls gazed after him for a moment. Strangely had he come into their lives, and as strangely gone out, without revealing his identity. And he had done them such a service, too.

"Well, we have our boat back," remarked Betty, with a sigh of thankfulness. "I wonder what possessed that sea cow to swim off with it?"

"Probably it was only an accident," said Mollie. "Well, we certainly have had a day of it. Now let's get back before anything else happens. Gracious, how swiftly he is poling along!"

She pointed to the youth, who was almost out of sight at a bend in the river.

"He wants to get away from those who are after him," observed Grace. "I wonder if he is a desperate criminal?"

"He didn't look at all like a criminal," spoke Amy. "I think he had a nice face."

"He wasn't bad looking," admitted Betty. "Poor fellow, he was very nervous, though."

"And no wonder—meeting four girls at once!" laughed Mollie.

"What shall we do if we meet those men who are after him?" asked Grace. "I shall be so frightened!"

"We won't meet them!" declared Betty. "If we do we need not speak to them. But if they insist we can say truthfully that we don't know who that young fellow was, nor where he went."

"He's out of sight now, at all events," spoke Amy. "I wonder whom he is going to get help for? I wish he had told us more."

"I don't," answered Betty, promptly. "The less we know the less we can tell if any men question us. Now let's get aboard and get back. No more manatees for me!"

The Gem was none the worse for her queer tow, and soon, with the girls aboard, was dropping down stream again. The strange youth was not in sight, even when the turn of the river was made, but he may have poled off into one of the many little bayous, or tributary streams, that joined the main one.

"I'm glad he's out of sight," murmured Grace. "If those men should come after him——"

She stopped suddenly, and stared ahead. There, coming around a turn in the river, was a small motor boat containing two men, who, at the sight of the Gem, headed directly for her, at the same time indicating by gestures that they wished to speak to those aboard.



CHAPTER XVI

SUSPICIOUS CHARACTERS

"What shall we do?" whispered Grace, glancing at Betty, who stood at the wheel, seemingly as calm and unperturbed as though she had the Gem out for a little run on Rainbow Lake. "Oh, what shall we do?"

"Do?" echoed Mollie. "Wait until there's something to be done, of course."

"But those men—they are heading right for us, and we don't know them!"

"And we didn't know Mr. Belton when he came to our rescue," replied Mollie. "So that doesn't count."

"But neither of these men is Mr. Belton," went on Grace. "Oh, I don't like Florida as much as I thought I would!"

"I'm sorry," spoke Amy gently.

"I—I didn't mean just that, my dear," answered Grace impulsively. "But they are heading for us, Betty."

"Of course they are," said the Little Captain.

"But that doesn't mean I am going to stop for them."

"Betty Nelson! Do you mean that you aren't going to stop?" gasped Grace.

"That's what I do mean. I don't see why we should halt our boat just because two strange men signal us. Indeed I'm not going to!" and Betty turned on more power. She gazed straight ahead as though she did not see the men in the approaching craft, who were now wildly waving their hands, and turning their rather disreputable-looking craft in the direction of the Gem.

"Betty Nelson! You're just splendid!" cried Grace impulsively as she moved forward and threw her arms about her chum. "I wish I had your courage!"

"Don't hug me too tightly," begged Betty with a laugh. "I may have to steer out of their way."

Indeed it did seem so, for the other craft was coming about so as to almost cross the bows of the boat of the outdoor girls. Then one of the men called:

"I say, young ladies, will you stop a minute? We want to speak to you."

Betty never turned her head, but gazed on down the river as though intent on not grounding on a sand bar, or running into an alligator. Her chums followed her example, but Grace could not forbear giving the men one glance.

"They're talking together," she reported in a low voice.

"Let 'em talk—as long as they don't talk to us," answered Mollie.

The men seemed to have decided on something after a conference, for the one who had first hailed the girls now called again:

"I say, young ladies, we don't mean to be impolite or to bother you, but we're looking for a boat, and——"

"This boat isn't for sale," said Betty in non-committal tones. "We have no time to stop."

"But you don't understand," cried the man, seemingly growing desperate. "One of our boats was taken last night by a young fellow, and he came down the river. We followed him, but we must have passed him in the night. Now we're on our way back. He may have hid in some bayou, and be on his way down farther up stream. All we wanted to know was if you had seen a tall young fellow, with blue eyes, in a small skiff?"

Betty returned no answer. It was not a question, strictly speaking. The men had merely said they wanted to know, and Betty saw no reason for gratifying their "want."

"Hey, can't you stop and answer a civil question?" cried the second man, and his voice was angry. "If you don't we may——"

Betty's cheeks flushed. Without turning her head she answered:

"You'd better be careful how you make threats. We are from Mr. Stonington's orange grove, and Mr. Hammond——"

"There, I knew you'd make a mess of it, Bill!" said the other man—the one who had first spoken—and he turned accusingly to his companion.

"Well, I don't care—why don't they answer? I'll wager they've seen that fellow and won't tell."

"Why shouldn't they tell?" asked the first man in a low voice, but he forgot how well even low tones carry over the water. "They are strangers here I am certain. They can't know 'The Loon,' and so we're perfectly safe in questionin' 'em."

"Yes, but they won't answer. Git over closer and maybe we can make 'em!"

"Oh!" gasped Grace, startled.

"They'd better not try!" cried Mollie with a sparkle in her eyes. "We're not very far from home, and this boat can go twice as fast as theirs."

"Don't be alarmed," said Betty. "I've got some speed in reserve yet."

The men consulted together again. They had put their boat about now, and were coming down after the Gem. But it was easy to see they had no speed.

"I say!" called out the man who had first hailed. "Won't you tell us if you've seen a ragged lad in a boat? We don't mean any harm. Just stop a minute!"

"We have no time!" said Betty sharply, "and if you persist in following us——"

"Say, look here!" blustered the second man, "if you gals don't——"

"Now let up on that line, Bill!" cautioned the other. "We don't mean any harm," he proceeded. "My friend here is a bit rough——"

"I'm no rougher than you!" retorted his companion.

"We're willing to pay for the information," went on the first man. "It won't take but a minute——"

But Betty stayed to hear no more. She opened wide the throttle of her motor, and the Gem shot ahead, leaving the other craft far behind. There was some evidence in the quicker staccato exhaust of the pursuing boat that the occupants tried to get more speed out of her, but they failed, and a little later Amy, turning around, saw them circling back up stream.

One man stood up and shook his fist vindictively at the girls. Grace gasped as she saw this.

"Oh, I am sure they mean us some harm!" she cried.

"Nonsense!" asserted Betty. "We're far enough off now."

"But if we come out again?" Amy suggested.

"I think we will take one of the young men from the orange crate factory," suggested Mollie. "Mr. Hammond will spare us one, I'm sure, and it would be too bad if we had to give up our trips on the river just because some men are hunting a fugitive."

"And I wonder what they want of him?" asked Grace. "He seemed harmless enough."

"They said he had their boat," supplied Amy.

"Yes, that was probably to escape in," suggested Grace. "He was going for help for someone. Maybe a friend of his was hurt. I wish someone could take help to my brother. Oh, it's dreadful to think he may be in need of it, and that we are unable to get to him."

"It certainly is," agreed Betty. "But fretting will do no good. We may have news of him any time now."

A little later the girls tied up at the orange grove dock. They made light of their adventures, even the one with the sea cow, and did not mention the ragged youth at all, except to say a stranger had recovered their boat for them.

"For there is no need of telling too many persons that we saw him," said Betty later. "Some of the hands might hear of it and, without meaning to, betray his secret."

"But we don't know where he went," said Grace.

"No, and I don't want to—then we can't tell under any circumstances. We'll just keep quiet about it."

For a day or so the girls did not venture far from the bungalow on the river, but soon they tired of comparative inactivity and planned a little cruise, down stream this time, past Lake Chad, and up another river that emptied into it.

"But you'd better take one of my young helpers along," suggested Mr. Hammond, when the girls made known their plan. "There have been a couple of suspicious characters hanging around of late, and I don't want you to take any chances. I'll give you a young fellow you can depend on."



CHAPTER XVII

IN DANGER

The girls looked at one another on hearing Mr. Hammond's warning. The same thought was in the mind of each.

"What—what kind of suspicious characters were they?" asked Betty.

"Oh, just the usual kind," replied the overseer. "I don't want to alarm you, and you needn't be afraid. They're mostly a cowardly set that always congregate around where a lot of work is going on, hoping to get money without labor, either by some form of chance game, or by deliberately taking advantage of some of the simple-minded colored hands. I ordered these two away a couple of times, and I'll do more than that the next time I see 'em."

"Did they—did they come in a motor boat?" faltered Mollie.

"I didn't notice. But they weren't the kind of fellows I want hanging around here, especially when pay-day comes. But don't think any more of what I said. I'm going to give you a young fellow to accompany you. He knows the river and the region around like a book, and anyone who tries to bother you when you're out he'll make short work of. He's a sort of deputy constable."

"Why do you think—I mean, in what way do you think anyone might try to bother us?" asked Betty.

"Oh, various ways. They might try to sell you a lot of useless trinkets, knowing you're from the North. Fancy shells, sea beans, curios and the like of that. You see, there isn't much ready money floating around among the poor people here. Even some of the scattered Seminoles—or what were once Seminole Indians—try to make a living selling trinkets they make themselves, and if they thought you had money they would become annoying. But Tom Osborne will see to 'em, all right. He knows a lot of 'em. When are you going?"

"Oh, in about an hour," answered Grace. "We're going to take our lunch and stay all day."

"That will suit Tom fine. He's very fond of—lunch!" and Mr. Hammond laughed.

"Doesn't he like—girls?" asked Mollie, with a blush.

"You can tell that better than I after you've met him. He's one of my bookkeepers, and a fine young fellow. I'll send him along to you."

"But maybe we ought not to take him from his work," suggested Betty, feeling that perhaps Mr. Stonington would not like the operation of his orange business interfered with by the pleasure of herself and her friends.

"Oh, I'll make it all right with uncle," laughed Amy. "We must enjoy ourselves while we're here."

"You needn't worry," spoke Mr. Hammond with a laugh. "Tom will be glad to come, and the worst of the rush is over now. Just consider him your escort, and he'll do anything you want, from catching an alligator to getting your meals. He's a handy young fellow, Tom is, and he knows all the streams about here."

While the overseer was gone to summon the young man, the girls prepared for the little outing. They had put up a lunch, or, rather, Aunt Hannah, the genial colored "mammy" had done it for them, putting in plenty of fried chicken and corn bread.

"Perhaps we'd better have more," suggested Mollie, to Aunt Hannah, when the fact of Tom Osborne going along was mentioned.

"Bress yo' he'at, honey!" exclaimed the buxom cook, "I done put in enough fo' two mo' gen'men if yo'all would laik t' take 'em along. Don't yo'all worry!"

"No, I think one young man will be sufficient," laughed Betty. "Only I didn't want him to go hungry, and I know the appetites of my friends."

"Speak for yourself, if you please!" chided Mollie. "You eat as much as any of us."

"I wonder if those two suspicious characters Mr. Hammond spoke of could be the ones who followed us in the boat?" asked Amy, to change the subject.

"They could have been," remarked Grace, "but I wouldn't want to think so."

"Why not?" asked Mollie.

"Because it would show that they were still following us."

"Perhaps it was unwise that I told them where we were from," said Betty, "but I did it for the best. I didn't want them to think that we had no friends near at hand."

"Of course," rejoined Amy. "You meant it all right. And they may not have been the same ones at all. Mr. Hammond did not say they made inquiries for us, or for that poor young fellow. What was it they called him—'The Duck?'"

"'Loon—loon!'" corrected Betty, with a laugh.

"Well, I knew it was some kind of a bird," asserted Amy. "I wonder why they called him that?"

"A loon is supposed to be a crazy sort of a bird," went on Betty, "and, come to think of it, that poor chap didn't look very bright. Maybe he was half-witted, and that's why they called him The Loon."

"Well, he knew enough to shoot the manatee, and get our boat for us," defended Grace. "I don't think he was very stupid."

"Oh, I don't mean it that way," said Betty quickly. "I only suggested that perhaps those mean men—I'm sure they were mean—might have called him that to suit their own purposes. But I think we are well rid of them, anyhow. Here comes Mr. Hammond, and that must be Tom with him," and she indicated two figures approaching.

"Oh, are you going to call him Tom?" gasped Grace.

"I don't see why not," was the calm answer. "He looks just like the sort of a nice young chap whom one would call Tom."

"Betty Nelson!" cried Mollie. "I'm going to tell——"

"Hush!" commanded the Little Captain, quickly. "I haven't done it yet."

Mr. Hammond presented the young man, who seemed quite at his ease under the scrutiny of four pairs of eyes—pretty eyes, all of them, too.

"You needn't worry when Tom is along," said the overseer with a laugh, as he named each of the girls in turn. "Now go off and have a good time. I depend on you, Tom, to bring them safely back."

"I will, Mr. Hammond. Are you ready, young ladies?" and he smiled at them.

The girls started for the boat, into which a colored boy had already put the baskets of lunch. Somehow or other Betty naturally fell into step beside Tom. She looked up at him frankly and said:

"Mr. Hammond told us your last name, but I have forgotten it, I'm ashamed to say."

"It's Osborne. But I'd rather you'd call me Tom, if you don't mind. Everyone does around here—that is, all my friends, of course," he added quickly.

"Then we'd like to be your friends," said Betty with a smile, and a calm look at Mollie, who was making signs behind Tom's back. Obvious signs they were, too. Betty looked triumphant, as though saying: "There, didn't I tell you?"

Tom Osborne proved that he knew something about motor boats, and was also versed in the ways of making girls comfortable. He asked if they wanted him to steer, and as Betty had not taken her craft down the river very often she agreed. The girls sat on the after deck, under a wide-spread awning, and chatted of the sights they saw.

They emerged into Lake Chad, skirted its shores and swept into the river beyond. They passed several other power craft and one or two houseboats in which were gay parties.

At the suggestion of Tom, they decided to go up a little side stream to where he said was a pleasant place to eat lunch, and this they reached about noon.

"Now, if you girls want to walk about and see what there is to be seen," he told them, "I'll get out the victuals and set the table on the grass under that tree," and he indicated it. "I'll call you when I'm ready."

Betty and her chums assented, and Tom proceeded to set out the luncheon. The girls strolled on for some distance, and Mollie, attracted by some flowers on the end of a small spit of land, extending for some distance into the stream, walked toward them, the others following.

They picked many blossoms, and were watching a pair of large turtles when Amy, glancing toward the main land, which was reached by crossing a narrow neck of sand, uttered a cry of alarm.

"Look!" she gasped, pointing to two long, black objects stretched right across the narrow place. "Alligators! Two big ones!"

It was only too true. The girls' way back was blocked.



CHAPTER XVIII

BETWEEN TWO PERILS

"What—what are we going to do?" gasped Grace. She, as Betty said afterward, seemed always to be the first to ask questions that were hard to answer in an emergency. "They—they may attack us!"

"Why can't you say something less—less scary?" demanded Mollie who, after the first gasp of fright, had come forward to stand beside Betty. Amy had already shrunk to a place in the rear near Grace. It seemed to be always thus, with Betty and Mollie facing the immediate danger, and Grace and Amy needing protection.

Not that they were not brave when occasion demanded it. They would not have been outdoor girls else, but somehow the first fear of something menacing sent Amy and Grace scurrying to the rear, whence it needed considerable persuasion to bring them to the van again.

"They—they don't seem to see us," ventured Amy, after a few tense seconds, during which the four had stared at the alligators.

"They won't see you and Grace at all, if you stay behind us," said Mollie a bit sharply. "There's no present danger, as far as I can see. Why don't you come out and help Betty and me throw stones at them?"

"Oh, you're never going to do that!" gasped Grace. "Why that would—make them mad!"

"Well," answered Betty, with a shrug of her shoulders, "I don't know that a mad alligator is any worse than any other kind. They're all mad, as far as I'm concerned, and throwing stones at them can't make them any worse. I rather side with Mollie. We may drive them away."

"Yes, and it may drive them toward us," cried Amy. "Please don't!"

"We won't coax them this way if we can help it," said Betty. "You may be sure of that. But we must do something. We can't stay out on this almost-island much longer. We'll have to eat, and——"

"Where's Tom?" suddenly asked Grace. "He ought to be able to rescue us. He knows all about alligators—and—and such things."

"Yes, maybe he can charm them away," suggested Mollie half-sarcastically. "But I don't see him."

The girls looked toward where they had left their escort setting the "table" on the grass. They had a glimpse of the white cloth, and the various things upon it, but Tom was not in sight.

"Maybe—maybe an alligator ate him!" said Grace. She was half-crying now.

"Don't be silly!" directed Betty in a stern tone. It was sometimes necessary to be severe with Grace when she was likely to give way to her feelings. But in this case Betty did not want to be too much so, for she realized all that her chum had suffered in the disappearance of her brother.

The two big alligators, and they were exceptionally large, so the girls said afterward, seemed to have taken permanent possession of the narrow neck of land that connected the peninsula with the main shore. The girls were practically prisoners on what, with a rise of the river, would be an island.

"They don't seem to be coming after us," remarked Mollie looking about for some stones, or anything else, to use as a weapon of offense.

"No, they're just waiting their time," said Amy, who was still clinging to Grace. "When they get ready they'll crawl out here and—and—what is it alligators do to you, anyhow—charm you?"

"You're thinking of snakes," said Betty, narrowly watching the saurians. "Alligators knock you down with their tails, I understand, sort of stun you, and——"

"Spare us the horrible details," interrupted Mollie, and she drawled it out in such a funny way that the others laughed.

The alligators evinced no intention of coming forward. They were moving about, seeming to scoop out resting places in the hot sand, on which the sun poured fierce rays. Then, having made themselves comfortable, stretched out at full length, the creatures sunned themselves.

The girls were getting uncomfortable now, for they were in an exposed position, and the day was warm. There was very little shade on that small peninsula.

"We've got to get help!" decided Mollie at length. "For some reason our escort has deserted us, and——"

"Oh, don't say that!" cried Betty. "I'm sure he can't have done that."

"Well, he isn't there; is he?" demanded Mollie, waving her hand toward the distant spread on the grass. "And I'd like to know where he is!"

"Maybe some of those men who were hanging about the orange grove, or who were after that poor, ragged young man, have taken Tom away," suggested Amy.

"Comforting—isn't she?" asked Mollie, appealing to the others.

"Well, I mean——"

"Oh, never mind—don't make it any worse," interrupted Mollie. "The question is what can we do?"

"Let's call for him," suggested Grace. "He can't have gone very far, and it's a still day. He'll hear us."

"It is rather strange where he could have gone," mused Betty. Anxiously she looked toward the main shore. There was no sight of Tom Osborne.

Together the girls raised their voices in a shout that must have carried far. They wailed, but there was no response. Then they called again, with like result. The outdoor girls looked anxiously at one another. The alligators seemed disposed to maintain their position indefinitely, and the neck of land was so narrow that the saurians occupied the entire width of it.

"Well, here goes!" cried Betty when it was evident that their calls were not going to be heeded. With that she threw a stone at the nearest alligator. Her aim was exceptionally good. Betty admitted that herself, afterward, the missile falling on the broad and scaly back of the reptile.

"Oh—oh!" cried Grace. "Now you have done it, Bet!"

They all looked and waited. Nothing happened. The alligator merely moved his tail slightly and did not open his eyes.

"Well, I don't see that I did very much," said Betty calmly. "I'm going to try again."

"Don't!" begged Grace. "They may come for us!"

At that moment Amy, who had gone back a little way toward the far end of the spit of land, uttered a cry.

"What is it?" cried Mollie. "Is there another alligator there?"

"No, but I have found a way to get off, and back to the shore without going near those creatures. See! here is a sand bar curving from the side here, right around to that other point of land. You can see bottom all the way to shore. It isn't more than a few inches deep, and we can wade."

They all ran to where Amy stood, forgetting for the time being the alligators that held them prisoners.

"That's so! It can be done!" cried Betty, taking in at a glance Amy's plan. "We can wade right along that raised bar. The water is deep on either side of it, but as she says, it is only a few inches deep on top of the bar. Come on, girls," and she sat down and began unbuttoning her shoes.

"Don't—don't!" cried Mollie. "Keep them on. What if we do get wet? Our shoes will soon dry, it's so hot. And there might be crabs or little fishes or—little alligators on the bar. We'll wade in our shoes."

"All right, I'd just as soon," agreed Betty.



Little Captain that she was, she prepared to take the lead. She was about to step out into the shallow water when she drew back with a gasp.

"What's the matter—cold?" asked Mollie.

"No—but look—snakes!"

Betty pointed to where, pursuing their sinuous way in the shallow water over the bar, were a number of reptiles.

"Moccasins," whispered Mollie. "We—we can't go that way either," and she glanced back toward the sleeping alligators. Both ways of escape were blocked.



CHAPTER XIX

LOST

Grace burst out crying. She said she knew it was silly, and not at all what an outdoor girl should do, and, very contritely afterward, she told the others how sorry she was that she had given way. But she just could not seem to help it. Without reserve she sobbed on Amy's shoulder.

For a moment Mollie and Betty, looking at one another, feared that Amy, too, would give way to her feelings, and that they would have two hysterical ones on their hands. But the little outburst of Grace seemed to act as a sort of tonic to Amy, who put her arms about her chum, murmuring comforting words.

"Oh, what—what are we going to do?" sobbed Grace.

"We're not going to cry—at any rate!" snapped Mollie. "At least I'm not."

There was an incisiveness—a sharpness—to her voice that made Grace look up a bit angrily.

"I—I'm not crying!" she said, and there was more energy in her voice than had been noticeable for some time.

"Well, it's a very good imitation of it then," went on Mollie. "Crying isn't going to do any good, and it gets on the nerves of all of us."

"I'm sorry—I couldn't seem to help it," spoke Grace, in a low voice. "I—I won't do it again. But oh, what are we going to do?"

No one knew what to answer. Certainly they were in a situation that needed help to enable them to escape from it. They could not approach the alligators—at least they did not think they could, though perhaps the creatures would have fled when the girls came near. And the snakes, while not aggressive, seemed to be numerous in the water that offered the only ford to shore. And moccasins, the girls had been told, were deadly poisonous.

"If Tom would only come!" muttered Betty. "I can't see what keeps him," and she looked anxiously toward where the luncheon was spread. But there was no sign of the young man.

"Maybe we could drive the snakes away by throwing more stones," suggested Grace, who seemed to have gotten over her little hysterical outburst. "Let's try it."

"It's worth trying," admitted Betty. "At least I don't believe the snakes would come out to attack us, and we might be able to drive them away."

The girls, glad of the chance to do something, collected a pile of stones and showered them into the water. Then when the ripples had cleared they peered anxiously at the sand bar.

"They're gone!" cried Amy joyously. "Now we can wade to shore."

"Better wait," advised Mollie.

There was an anxious pause, and then Betty said in a hopeless sort of tone:

"No, there they come back again," and she pointed to where the writhing serpents could be seen. Evidently the sand bar was a sort of feeding place for them, and though they might disappear for the moment at some disturbance, they returned.

Hopelessly the girls looked at one another. Then they glanced into the water, that seemed fairly swarming with the snakes. There appeared to be more than ever of them. Then Amy looked toward the neck of land and gave a cry of surprise—of joy.

"Look!" she exclaimed. "They're going—the alligators. At least they're—moving!"

"I hope they don't move toward us!" gasped Grace.

The saurians indeed seemed waked into life. Whether they had completed their sun bath, or whether the call of their appetites moved them, it was impossible to say. But they were walking about, dragging their ponderous, fat, squatty bodies, and their big tails.

"Let's tell 'em we're in a hurry," suggested Betty, as she caught up a stone. Running forward she threw it with such good aim that it struck one of the saurians on the head. With a sort of surprised grunt the creature slid off the narrow neck of sand into the water. The other followed with a splash.

"There they go!" cried Mollie. "Come on now, before they take a notion to come back. Oh girls! I'm nearly starved!"

Betty laughed at this—it was characteristic of Mollie, once the immediate stress was removed, to revert to the matter that had previously claimed her attention, and this had been their luncheon.

"Come on!" she cried, and ran toward the main shore.

Betty said afterward that they had never run so fast, not even at the school games, where the outdoor girls had made records for themselves on the cinder track. Just who reached shore first is a matter of no moment—in fact it must have been a "dead heat," as Tom Osborne said afterward.

As the girls passed the place where the alligators had been sunning themselves they gave one look each into the water where the saurians had disappeared. One look only, and they did not pause to do that. But they saw no signs of the ugly creatures.

"Safe!" cried Betty, and the girls, breathless from their run, were safe. They gathered about the eatables on the grass.

"Oh, where can Tom be?" cried Betty anxiously. "I—I hope nothing has happened to him!"

"Now who is making direful suggestions, I'd like to know?" asked Grace.

"Well, it is queer to have him disappear that way," voiced Mollie. "But I'm going to be impolite and—eat."

She approached the "table," an example followed by the others. Certainly Tom had done his work exceedingly well. The spread was very inviting.

Betty looked all around the little glade on the edge of the river, where the table was set. There was no sign of their escort. The Gem floated lazily where she was moored, and the scene was quiet and peaceful enough. But there was a certain mystery about the disappearance of Tom Osborne.

"Well, we may as well eat," sighed Betty. "Then we can look about a bit. There won't be any alligators inland, I guess."

Even the fright the girls had experienced had not taken away their appetites, and soon they were making merry over the meal, which was a bountiful one—they could well trust Aunt Hannah for that.

But "between bites," as it were, Betty and the others looked about for a sign of the young man. He did not appear, however, nor were there any sounds of his approach. The woods back from the river teemed with bird and animal life. The latter was not so visible as the former, for the feathered creatures flitted here and there amid the branches, bursting into various melodious notes.

The meal went on; it was finished. The girls packed up with a little sense of disappointment. They felt that their outing had been rather spoiled. They saved enough for Tom in case he should come back hungry, which would very likely be the case.

"Well, we may as well put things on board," said Betty, at length. "We can't stay here much longer. It's getting late."

"But can we—ought we—go back without Tom?" asked Mollie.

"I don't see what else we can do—if he doesn't come," said Betty. "We can't stay here all night."

The Gem was made ready for the trip back. Then came a time of anxious waiting as the shadows lengthened. Betty, as well as the others, was getting nervous.

"We simply must go," said the Little Captain, at length. "He will have to come back as best he can. I don't see what made him go away. I am quite sure Mr. Hammond will not like it."

"But if we go, can Tom find his way back?" asked Grace.

"He'll have to. But of course we'll tell Mr. Hammond, and he, and some of the men, can come for Tom, if they think it necessary."

There seemed nothing else to do, and presently the girls went aboard, taking the remains of the lunch with them.

"We ought to leave some sort of note for Tom, telling him what happened, and that we couldn't wait any longer," suggested Mollie, as Betty was about to start.

"That's so. I didn't think of that. We'll do it."

"And leave him some lunch, too," voiced Amy.

"Good!" cried Betty. "Tom has one friend, at least."

A goodly packet of lunch was done up, and placed in a tree, well wrapped, where it would be sure to be seen. Then a note was left, with a brief account of what had happened, and the information that the girls had gone back to Orangeade.

"He ought to see that!" remarked Betty, stepping back to inspect her handiwork. She had pinned a small square of white paper, containing the writing, to a sheet of light brown manila, so that it was visible for some distance.

"It looks like a whole book—instead of a note," laughed Mollie.

The Gem was started and began dropping down the branch stream toward the main river. At least the girls hoped it was the main river when they turned into a larger body of water. But as they puffed on, amid the lengthening shadows, an annoying doubt began to manifest itself in Betty's mind. She glanced at the shores from time to time.

"Girls," she said finally, "does everything look right?"

"Do you mean—your hair?" asked Amy.

"No, I mean the scenery. Is it familiar? Have we been here before? Did we come this way?"

They all stared at Betty.

"What—what do you mean?" faltered Grace.

"Well, I don't seem to remember this place," went on Betty. "I'm afraid we've taken the wrong turn in the river, and that——"

"You don't mean to say that we're lost; do you?" cried Mollie.

"I'm afraid so," was Betty's low-voiced reply.



CHAPTER XX

THE LOON

Onward chugged the Gem and the sudden acceleration in the heart-beats of the girls seemed to keep time with the staccato exhaust of the motor.

"Lost!" faltered Grace.

"And night coming on," echoed Amy.

"Oh, you two!" cried Mollie. "I wish I were a boy!"

"Why?" asked Betty, as she guided her craft to the center of the stream. It was lighter there, for they were not so much under the overhanging trees with their festoons of moss. "Why, Mollie, dear?"

"Then I could use slang, such as—oh, well, what's the use? I don't suppose it would do any good."

"But are you sure we are lost?" asked Amy. "What makes you say so, Betty?"

"Because this place doesn't look at all like any part of the river we came down before. The trouble was that we let Tom steer, and we didn't notice the course very much, as we should have done on coming in a new channel. But I'm sure we are lost."

"It isn't a very pleasant thing to be sure about," said Mollie grimly, "but we may as well face the worst. Grace, let's you and I look to our stock of provisions."

"What for?" asked Grace, who had found a few stray pieces of candy in a box, and was contentedly eating them.

"Well, if we're lost that doesn't mean we're not going to eat, and if we have enough for supper and breakfast——"

"Breakfast!" cried Grace. "Are we going to be here for breakfast?"

"And stay out all night?" added Amy.

"There may be no help for it," said Betty as calmly as she could. "We have slept aboard before this, and we can do it again."

"But you're not going to give up without trying to get back to the grove; are you?" asked Mollie, who, after the first shock, was her own brave self again, as was Betty.

"Of course I'm going to try," replied Betty. "But that doesn't mean we'll get there. Often, after you're lost, trying to find your way back again only makes you lost the more—especially with night coming on."

"But what are we going to do?" queried Grace blankly. She had ceased eating candy now.

"Well, it's very evident that we're not going the right way," went on Betty. "The farther we go the more sure I am that we were never on this part of the stream before. So I think we had better turn back, and, if necessary, start over again from where we had lunch.

"We may be able to see the right turn by starting over once more. Then we will be all right. Once I am started on the right track I think I can follow it. We have a compass, and I noticed, in a general way, which direction we came, though I was not as careful as I should have been."

"But it will be very dark," objected Amy. "It is getting darker all the while."

"That will be the worst of it," admitted Betty frankly, "and if we find we can't go on, we shall have to tie up for the night. We might do worse."

"But anchor far enough from shore so that nothing can—get us," pleaded Grace. "No alligators, I mean."

"Don't worry—they won't come aboard," declared Betty.

"These rivers are split up into a lot of side brooks, bayous and such things," said Mollie. "Tom mentioned that, and he said that often one could wander about in them being close to the right route all the while, and yet not know a thing about it."

"Cheerful prospect," remarked Grace.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll get on the right stream—sometime," spoke Mollie cheerfully. "What do you say—had we not better turn back?"

They all agreed that this was best, and soon, in the fast gathering dusk, the Gem was swung about and was breasting the rather sluggish current.

To the credit of the outdoor girls be it said that even in this nerve-racking emergency they did not altogether lose heart and courage. Of course there was that first instinctive fear, and something like a gasping for breath, as when one plunges into cold water. But the reaction came, and the girls were themselves once more—brave and self-reliant.

"I only hope we don't pass the stream up which we went to have our lunch," spoke Mollie as they went on. She and the others were peering from side to side in the gloom.

"Oh, I'm sure we can find that," declared Betty. "There is a big, dead cypress tree, with a lot of moss on it, just at the turn. We must watch for that."

There were one or two false alarms before they saw it, but finally they were all sure of the turn, and Betty made it.

"Oh, are you going all the way back to where we ate?" asked Grace, as Betty guided her craft into the branch stream.

"I think so," answered the Little Captain. "It will not take much longer, and we may find Tom there. If we do, all our troubles will be over. I think we had better go up."

"But it's getting dark so fast," objected Grace.

"Then a little more dark won't make much difference," returned Mollie with a shrug. "Go on, Betty."

The Gem chugged her way up "Alligator Brook," as the girls had named it. Eagerly they looked for some sign of their missing escort, and listened for any sound that would indicate he was coming to meet them. But the forest was silent. Night was settling down, and birds and beasts were seeking their resting places.

They reached the place where the boat had been tied, and could see where they had eaten their lunch. Over in the gloom there fluttered the paper Betty had fastened to a tree to indicate to Tom the fact that his charges had left.

"He hasn't been here," said Mollie in a low voice.

"No, there's the packet of lunch," went on Grace pointing to it. "We may need it ourselves."

Betty said nothing, but in the semi-darkness her chums could see the worried look on her face.

Suddenly there was a crashing through the underbrush, announcing the approach of someone.

"Here he comes!" exclaimed Amy.

"Let's call!" suggested Grace.

"Wait a minute," advised Betty.

The figure of a young man came into view. He looked about him nervously, turning his head from side to side like a timid bird.

"That isn't Tom!" said Mollie.

Low as her voice was the youth heard. He fairly leaped forward, and Betty, as she had a better glimpse of him, spoke:

"It's The Loon! The one who saved our boat for us!"



CHAPTER XXI

TO THE RESCUE

For a few seconds it was like a tableau, the strange young man, more ragged than before (if that were possible) standing in the midst of the clearing, and gazing as though spellbound at the girls in the motor boat.

On their part, Betty and her chums, following the half-whispered announcement made by Betty, stared at The Loon almost as if he might be a ghost of the Florida forest.

For perhaps a quarter of a minute they all remained thus, scarcely moving—hardly breathing—and then the young man made a slow turn. He seemed about to plunge back into the tangle whence he had come.

"Don't do that!" said Mollie, hardly above a whisper. "He mustn't do that!" and she seemed appealing to her chums. "We must keep him here—speak to him—perhaps he knows where Tom went."

"Or, if he doesn't, perhaps he can tell us which way to go to get home," breathed Grace. "He's some company, anyhow."

The Loon, to give him the title bestowed on him by the men in the boat, hesitated as he caught the sound of whispering. He shifted from one foot to the other, much after the manner of some animal seeking to escape unnoticed.

He took a step backward. By this time Betty had brought her boat close to the extending tree branch, where she had made fast before. The power had been shut off and the Gem had drifted to the former mooring place. Now Betty was ready for action.

"I beg your pardon," she said in a low voice, and with an intonation calculated to disperse the fears of even the most timid youth, "but will you be so good as to help us again? We are the girls, you know, whose boat you got when the manatee was towing it away."

"Wha—what?" gasped the other, and he seemed much afraid.

"We're the same girls," went on Betty. "You know, we saw you poling down the river that day. If you come closer you can see us and make sure. We need help again. We are lost and a friend of ours is missing. Wait, I'll light the lamps," and with a turn of the switch Betty set aglow the electric lights, operated by a storage battery.

The youth started again. Clearly he was a most timid creature.

"We saw the men who were after you," put in Mollie, thinking to add to his confidence. "And we didn't tell; did we, girls."

"No!" came in a chorus. In spite of the rather unprepossessing appearance of the youth the girls were glad to see him.

"Now will you help us again?" asked Mollie. "We've had a dreadful time, and we need help. You won't go away; will you?"

"N—no!" was the hesitating answer. "I came to look for you, but I wasn't sure—you see I have to be so careful."

"Gracious, I wonder if he thinks we wanted to capture him?" thought Grace, feeling about amid the cushions for some chocolates. That was a sure sign Grace had recovered her equanimity.

"You came to look for us?" echoed Betty, wonderingly.

"Yes, miss," was the answer. "He sent me to find you."

"He? Who do you mean?" Betty questioned anxiously.

"Tom—Tom Osborne. He told me to come here and tell you he couldn't come."

"Couldn't come—why?" Betty's voice had a note of fear in it now.

"'Cause they've caught him. He's cotched, Miss."

"Caught? By whom?" It was Mollie who questioned now.

Before answering The Loon, which name seemed to fit the poor creature well, glided forward, glancing back nervously over his shoulder now and then, as though he feared pursuit.

"Oh dear!" murmured Grace. "I don't like this. It's worse than the ghost of the island."

"Be quiet," urged Betty. "It may be all right yet. I'm going to light more lamps."

Thus far she had only set aglow one in the after cockpit, and the red and green side lights, together with the one on the small signal mast. Now she flooded the cabin with radiance, for it was getting more and more gloomy in the forest clearing.

"Won't you come aboard?" urged Betty kindly. "We will do all we can for Tom Osborne if he is in trouble. We can't understand why he deserted us. We have been in much distress, we got lost and had to come back. Come aboard and tell us all about it so we will know what to do. Perhaps you are hungry. We left food there," and she indicated it. "Bring it here, and then perhaps you can take us back to the bungalow. The men there will organize a searching party if need be. But tell us who has caught Tom."

The Loon did not answer for a minute. He looked to where Betty pointed, saw the packet of food and went toward it eagerly. Then he brought it to the moored boat.

"I am hungry," he said simply.

"Then eat first, and talk later," urged Mollie. "I know what it is to be hungry."

"I'll admit I'm hungry now," said Grace. "We left enough food so we could have some, I think."

"Hush! we had a good lunch," said Betty, "and there is no telling what will happen before morning. Grace, you and Amy might make some hot chocolate."

"Will you tell us your name now, or are you still afraid?" asked Betty of the youth, who was eating ravenously. "The men called you—The Loon—I believe it was."

"Yes, Miss, that's my name. You see I'm not quite right in the head. I got hurt when I was a baby. I'm harmless, but I can't do much work—I'm not strong. My name is Harry Jackson."