The cough of a Diesel engine exhaust and the
clanking of gear told him that a ship was nearing. A shiver ran
through him. Brad Marbek, coming in to load!

"Let's step on it, he whispered. He sat down and removed his shoes and
socks, then climbed up on the gunwale and walked forward, brushing
against the rushes but trying not to make too much noise. He took his
oar and shoved straight down from the bow. There was about a foot of
water, then another eighteen inches of mud before the bottom firmed.
It would be hard going. He started back, but Scotty came to meet him,
carrying the camera and power pack.

"The tripod," Rick requested in a low whisper. "If the ground is so
soft I can't get a firm stance, I'll need it."

Scotty handed him the equipment, then went back and got the tripod.
Rick screwed the camera into place with a few turns of the tripod nut.
Scotty disconnected the power cord that led from the power pack to the
camera and coiled it up. They could reconnect it when they needed it.
Meanwhile, it would interfere with their progress. He slung the power
pack over his shoulder.

Rick put the camera and tripod on the deck, then turned his back to
the creek and lowered himself. The water was cold and the muck seemed
to reach up for him. He felt firmer ground under his toes and let
himself go, then held his hands within reach of the boat as he
continued to sink. He was up to his thighs when the ground finally
held. He reached up and took the camera, holding it high in the air,
and started forward.

Each step was an effort. He had to lift his leg high before each step,
and the mud clung. Behind him, he heard the sucking, splashing, of
Scotty's progress.

Then the ground began to get firmer until at last there was only a
thin film of water and about a foot of mud. The lights of Creek House
could be seen through the rushes now. He held up his hand as a warning
to Scotty. They were close to the bank. In a moment he parted the
reeds and looked through. Scotty moved to his side. The _Albatross_
was tying up at Creek House pier, and Brad Marbek was just leaping to
the dock where the Kelsos waited. But the boys were too far down
toward the creek mouth. They would have to move along the bank. Rick
gave Scotty a little push in that direction and Scotty understood. He
went back into the marsh a few feet, then led the way.

It was easier going, but still far from pleasant. The muck gave every
step a slurping sound, and it