“Yes to everything.  So-long, fellows!  Don’t let anybody run away with the motor-boat while I’m gone.”  And, with a merry laugh, Will dipped his paddle into the water, sending the little dinghy gliding toward the more quiet lagoons of the swamp.

He was soon under the spell of his surroundings.  These were so weird that the ardent photographer really forgot everything else.  As he paddled along he saw a dozen pictures around him, and when he thought the light fair enough he took a time exposure.

So an hour passed away.  In all that time he had seen no evidence of life, save a few alligators, some wary ’coons, a ’possum hanging from a tree by its tail, and some birds, mostly crows or bluejays.

In the water he had noted a variety of snakes.  Remembering what Frank had told him about these gliding reptiles, Will was careful not to bother with them; for in all probability they were water moccasins, whose bite, if not so deadly as that of the diamond-back rattler, would cause a wound that might never heal, since it seems to put a certain poison into the flesh that brings about a running sore.

Perhaps he ought to go back.  He had succeeded in taking all of half a dozen good views, besides several of which he was not so certain.

Then it dawned upon Will that, after all, he was not so sure that he knew which way he ought to go.  True, he had a compass, and could tell where the north lay, as well as all other cardinal points, but the question was, did the camp lie east or south of where he happened to be just then?

He cudgeled his brains to try to remember, so as to place himself.

“Say!  Perhaps I am lost, all right,” he remarked, with a laugh, for it did not look at all serious just then, but more like a joke.

Then he suddenly remembered that he had the only boat.

“If they wanted to hunt for me they couldn’t do it.  To move about in this swamp without a boat would be impossible; that is, for a stranger; and the launch could never come here.  Guess I’ll shoot up a few and get my points.”

So saying, he banged away three times.

Presently there was an answering series of shots, but very far distant.

“Whew!  I didn’t dream I’d gone so far,” he said, and having noted the direction from which the sounds seemed to come, he started to paddle hard.

After half an hour’s work he halted, tired, and perspiring freely.

“This is no fun, I tell you.  Wonder if I’m anywhere near?  I might try again.”

This time there was no answer.  The wind possibly kept those in camp from hearing the fusilade.  Will began to grow alarmed.  It was now high noon, and he felt hungry, so he disposed of the lunch he had carried, at Bluff’s suggestion.  Incidentally, he blessed his chum for thinking of such a thing.

After that he paddled some more, until he grew very tired.

“This begins to look some serious.  What if I have to spend a night here?  Gee!  I won’t like that much, I guess.  Hello!  What’s that over yonder?  Seems to me it might be some sort of a shack, made of palmetto leaves.  Wonder who lives there?  Ugh!  What if it turns out to be that desperado the sheriff is hunting—­Bob?”