“Under the circumstances—­I think not,” answered Mrs. Maguire.  “We need help, and this is the first sign we have seen of it.”

Russ stepped forward, and, after a moment of hesitation lifted the curtain of palm leaves.  The interior of the hut was rather dark, and, for a moment he could see nothing.

“Anyone there?” asked Paul.

“Not a soul,” was the disappointing reply.  “It’s empty.”

“Oh, dear!” sighed Alice.

“What are we to do?” Ruth wanted to know.

No one could answer her.  Russ was busy making a more thorough examination of the interior of the hut.

“It’s a good place to stay—­if we have to,” he said to Paul, who had joined him inside.

“And it looks as though we’d have to—­eh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Russ fastened the palm curtain back and this let in more light.  Then the others came up, though there was not room for them all inside.  The hut would hold three comfortably—­no more.

“Who has been here?”

“What sort of a hut is it?”

“Has anyone been here lately?”

Ruth, Alice, and Mrs. Maguire, in turn, asked these questions.

“I don’t know who has been here,” said Russ, “but it’s the sort of a hut a native might build—­possibly a Seminole Indian.  Or some hunters may have it to stay a few nights in a spot where they could get alligators, or whatever game they were after.  The fact that the boat is here seems to show they haven’t gone for good.”

“Oh, then they may come back!” cried Ruth.

“Very likely to, I should say,” spoke Russ.  “We’ll just stick around until they do.”

“I hope they come back before dark,” ventured Ruth, and her sister echoed the wish.

A closer examination of the hut showed two rude bunks, made of sticks, raised slightly above the surface of the ground.  The bunks were covered with thick layers of Spanish moss, and were evidently far from being uncomfortable.  A few blankets showed that the occupants did not lack for a little comfort.

There were a few cooking utensils scattered about, and outside, the ashes of a camp fire, made between stones—­a sort of oven—­showed how the meals were prepared.  But there was little evidence of food, save a few empty tins.

“There are evidently two persons staying here,” observed Russ, as he looked at a packing box, which served as a table, and noted two tin plates, and two knives, forks and spoons.  “It must be real jolly, camping this way.”

“I’d rather have a tent,” said Paul.  “This palm leaf hut looks artistic, and all that, but not very secure.”

“It’s secure enough in good weather,” declared Russ.  “Well, I guess the only thing to do is to wait until these folks come back.  They won’t remain away all night, I hardly think.”

“But if they don’t come back until dark, what shall we do?” asked Ruth.  “We can’t stay out all night again.”