were well out of the creek now.

When the water shoaled, he found Scotty again and pressed him down;
then, very gingerly, he put his head above water, half expecting to feel
the shock of a bullet.

There was a fallen tree nearby. He submerged again, touched Scotty, and
led the way to its shelter. A cautious survey told him they were some
distance from the creek mouth, and certainly invisible behind the
waterlogged trunk and its load of leaves and other debris.

He put his lips to Scotty's ear. "Wonder what happened to Orvil?"

"We've got to find out," Scotty whispered back.

"Yes, but how?"

"We go overland."

Of course! They were on the same side as the boat, and not far away.
There was the stretch of marsh between the channel and the creek. They
could cross that, and overlook the creek. "Let's go," Rick whispered.

They inched their way along the fallen tree to the bank, then crawled
slowly into the shelter of the marsh grass. The grass grew in a narrow
swath at this point, with a tangle of scrub and trees deeper inland.
They kept going until the scrub concealed them, listening for sounds
from the creek. There was the beat of a motor. It sounded like Orvil's
boat, and Rick thought it probably was. But would Orvil continue
crabbing? Again the doubt came. Had the crabber tried to kill them? He
couldn't believe it.

The boys stopped and slipped off their fins. "Lead on," Rick said
softly.

"Okay. When we get to the boat, we'll wade across the channel and
continue right on through the marsh grass to the bank of the creek. We'd
better be as quiet as possible."

"I'm with you."

Carrying their swim fins, the boys started through the dense growth,
Scotty in the lead. It was hard going. Mosquitoes whined in a steady
swarm around their heads, but with the neoprene suits and helmets, only
their faces and hands were exposed. Each traveled with one hand
outstretched to fend off branches, the other hand waving the fins to
chase the insects from their faces. The outstretched hands were wiped
frequently across the suits to get rid of the pests.

Rick was careful to step where Scotty stepped. When it came to silent
tracking at night, the ex-Marine had few peers.

The two skirted the shore, keeping within the tree belt, until more
marsh grass warned them that the water was near. The ground gave way to
mud, and the mud to water. They stepped into the narrow channel up which
they had gone to the blind. They now were le