k, but it was actually only a few minutes
before they were climbing into the boat. "What do we do?" he asked
desperately as he stowed the camera. "If we start the boat, they'll
hear it, and it would take too long to pole out."

"Swim," Scotty said tersely. "It's faster. Get out of your clothes,
but tie the laces of your shoes together and hang the shoes around
your neck. We'll need 'em."

Quickly they stripped to their shorts, then draped shoes around their
necks and slipped into the mud again. The water deepened rapidly and
they began to swim with a noiseless side stroke. Rick followed Scotty,
knowing that his friend was at his best in a situation like this.

They reached the edge of the marsh and angled along its edge, swimming
strongly. Rick was in an agony of fear for Jerry. How had he gotten
caught? And where? Scotty slowed, then stopped. The sudden feel of
sluggish current warned Rick they were at the creek mouth.

"Watch the splashes," Scotty whispered. "We'll cross to the outside of
the fence."

For the next few moments they would be vulnerable if Carrots Kelso
happened to walk to the bank and look across. It had to be chanced.
Scotty started out and Rick drew abreast of him. They swam cautiously,
making no noise or splash, reached the opposite bank safely and
crawled up the beach until they were sure the fence hid them from any
watchers at Creek House.

"Got to draw Carrots to the back side of the hotel," Scotty
whispered. "Then we can get in through the creek side of the fence.
But how?"

Rick thought quickly. If they could make some sort of noise on the
other side ... but it would take too long to go over there and then
come back again and it wouldn't be safe to enter near where they made
the noise, anyway. He started to put on his shoes, and as his fingers
touched the strings, an idea blossomed. "Hunt for a piece of rope or
wire," he said swiftly, and began running down the reef, eyes
searching the dark ground. Scotty went to the other side and began to
search, too. Rick knew they would find what he wanted on the wreck of
the trawler but hoped he wouldn't have to go that far. He was in luck.
He stumbled over a loop of rusty wire, grabbed it, and heaved. It came
free. Swiftly his fingers explored it. About eight feet. That was
good. Probably it had been buried when the part of the reef nearest
the hotel had been filled in with trash to make a parking area. He had
noticed odds and ends of junk around.