“We may have to spend another night in the open,” he confided to Paul.

“It doesn’t look very hopeful,” agreed the young actor.

Noon came, and as far as could be told from listening, and from looking about, they were as far off as ever from the steamer.

“And yet it may be within a comparatively short distance of us,” said Russ, as cheerfully as he could.  “Only the woods are so dense that we can’t see it, and if our voices and the sounds of the gun carry to the Magnolia those aboard can’t tell from which direction they come.”

They had been keeping on in the course first decided on—­southeast—­and there were many twists and turns to the trail.

“Would it be any better to get out and walk?” asked Ruth.

“I think not,” said Russ.  “The boat is really easiest and best for us.”  He did not say so, but he thought that if they had to spend another night in the open the boat would be absolutely necessary.  So they remained aboard.

At noon they tied up, and went ashore to eat the last of the food.  Only a little coffee remained, and as the final meagre crumbs were disposed of each one feared to look the others in the face.

What would be next—­where would the next meal come from?

No one could answer.

“Well, we’d better move on, I suppose,” suggested Russ, after a pause.  “No good staying here.”

“That’s the idea,” agreed Paul, trying to speak cheerfully.

He glanced at the two girls.  Ruth’s lips were quivering, and she seemed on the verge of tears.  Alice was bearing up better, but she, too, showed the effects of the strain.

Mrs. Maguire was a pillar of strength and courage.

“Whist!  And it’s laughin’ we’ll be at ourselves in a little while—­to think we were scared!” she cried, with a forced Irish brogue.  “We’ll be soon aboard the steamer tellin’ what good times we had, an’ the others will be wishin’ they’d been along.”

“I—­I wish I could believe so,” faltered Ruth.

The boys rowed on, and they were glad of the exertion, for it kept them from brooding over the troubles of their situation, and a troublesome situation it was—­they admitted that.

The afternoon was half gone, and in spite of having traveled several miles, twisting this way and that, there were no signs of the steamer.

The boat made a turn in a stream that seemed more sluggish and lonely than any of the others.  But it was broader and this gave the boys hope.

“We may get somewhere on this creek,” observed Russ, pulling hard at the oars.

Alice gave a startled cry, pointed toward the shore and said: 

“Look!”

They all gazed to where she indicated, and there, on the bank of the stream, was a small hut, made of palm leaves, while in front of it, tied to an overhanging tree, was a large motor boat!

CHAPTER XXIV