Swamp Island Part 15

She blew out the lantern and wordlessly motioned for the pair to move back into the deep shadow of the tree.

Holding her s.h.i.+rt to keep it from blowing in the night breeze, the woman gazed intently toward a swamp road some distance from the boundary of her land. For the first time, Salt and Penny became aware of a m.u.f.fled sound of a running truck motor.

"Sounds like a car or truck back there in the swamp," Salt commented. "Is there a road near here leading in?"

"There's a road yonder," the widow answered briefly.

"It goes into the swamp?"

"Only for a mile or so."

"What would a truck be doing in there at this time of night?" Penny probed.

"I wouldn't know," answered the widow dryly. "There's some things goes on in this swamp that smart folkses don't ask questions about."

Without relighting the lantern, she walked briskly on. Reaching the rear porch, she paused and turned once more to Salt and Penny.

"I be much obliged to ye comin' out here to tell me about my car being stole. Will ye come in and set a spell?"

"Thanks, we'll have to be getting back to Riverview," Salt declined the invitation. "It's late."

"You'll catch your death if you stay out in this damp swamp air," the woman said, her gaze resting disapprovingly on Penny's flimsy dress and low-cut slippers. "I'd advise you to git right back to town. 'Evenin' to you both."

She went inside and closed the door.

"Queer character," Salt commented as he and Penny made their way to the roadside, "Forthright to say the least."

"I rather liked her, Salt. She seemed genuine. And she has courage to live here alone at the edge of the swamp."

"Sure," the photographer agreed. "Plenty of iron in her soul. Wonder what she saw there at the edge of the swamp?"

"It seemed to me she was afraid we might try to investigate. Did you notice how she advised us to go directly to Riverview?"

"She did make the remark a little pointed. The Widow Jones is no dumbbell! You could tell she has a good idea who stole her auto, and she wasn't putting out anything about that truck."

Salt had started the car and was ready to turn around. Penny placed a detaining hand on the steering wheel.

"Let's go the other direction, Salt!"

"On into the swamp?"

"It's only a short distance to that other road. If the truck is still there, we might see something interesting."

Salt's lips parted in a wide grin.

"Sure thing," he agreed. "What have we got to lose?"

CHAPTER 10 _INSIDE THE WOODSHED_

The throaty croak of frogs filled the night as Salt, car headlights darkened, brought up at a bend of the road near the swamp's edge.

Entrance to the pinelands could be gained in any one of three ways. A road, often mired with mud, had been built by a lumber mill, and led for nearly a mile into the higher section of the area. There it ended abruptly.

Half a mile away, near Trapper Joe's shack, lay the water course Penny and Louise had followed. From it branched a maze of confusing channels, one of which marked the way to the heart of the swamp. But only a few persons ever had ventured beyond Lookout Island, close to the exit.

The third entrance, also not far from Trapper Joe's, consisted of a narrow boardwalk path nailed to fallen trees and stumps just above the water level. The walk had fallen into decay and could be used for only five hundred feet.

"Seems like a funny time for a truck to be coming out of the swamp road,"

Salt remarked, peering into the gloom of the pine trees. "Hear anything?"

Penny listened intently and shook her head. But a moment later, she explained: "Now I do! The truck's coming this way."

"Let's get closer to the road exit," Salt proposed. "We'd better leave the car here, if we don't want to be seen."

Penny's high heels kept twisting on the rutty road, and finally in exasperation, she took them off, stripped away her stockings, and walked in her bare feet.

The truck now was very close and the pair could hear its laboring engine.

Salt drew Penny back against the bottle-shaped trunk of a big tree at the road exitway. There they waited.

Presently the truck chugged into view, its headlights doused. On the main road, not ten yards from where Salt and Penny crouched, it came to a jerky halt.

The driver was a husky fellow who wore a heavy jacket and cap which shadowed his face. With him in the cab were two younger men of athletic build. Both wore homespun clothes and stout boots.

As the truck halted, the two younger men sprang to the ground.

Instantly Penny and Salt were certain they had seen one of the strangers before.

"He's the man who drove the accident car this afternoon!" Penny whispered. "The auto stolen from Widow Jones!"

Salt nodded, placing his hand over the girl's lips. He drew her back behind the tree.

The precaution was a wise one, for a moment later, a flashlight beam played over the spot where they had been standing.

"Thought I heard something!" one of the truckers muttered.

"Jest them frogs a-croakin'," his companion answered. "You're gettin'

jumpy."

"Let's get a move on!" growled the driver of the truck. "I gotta get this load to Hartwell City before dawn. You keepin' any of the stuff?"

"A couple o' gallons will do us. Too durn heavy to carry."

From the rear end of the truck, the two young men who had alighted, pulled out a large wooden container with handles.