"That may not be his game. What's our next move, Matt? We can't stand here boxing the compass when there's dirty weather ahead."
"I'm expecting the writer of that letter to put in an appearance. From what he wrote, I thought he would be here ahead of us."
"I tell you somet'ing!" exploded Carl. "He vas der feller mit der gun. He got us here und he bagged us, und now he don'd vant to come oudt vere ve can ged a look at him. I vould like to knock his plock off, yah, so helup me!"
"We might make a move in the direction of Yamousa's cabin," said Matt. "That would be a more comfortable place to wait than out here in the open."
"Don'd you nefer t'ink dot!" chattered Carl. "Der blace iss pad meticine. I bed you der olt foodoo's shpook haunts der capin."
"Avast, there, you flying Dutchman!" reproved Dick. "We don't believe in spooks. If you're afraid to go with us, Carl, you can heave to and drop your anchor right here."
"I go verefer you go, und dry und be as jeerful as bossiple, only I don'd like going to der shpook laty's house."
Matt and Dick set out around the edge of the bayou and were presently upon familiar ground. Dick indicated the spot where the _Hawk_ had been moored, upon the occasion of their first visit to the place, and it was there that Matt called a halt while they made a survey of the hovel where the Obeah woman had lived.
It had been decorated with bones of various kinds, when the chums saw the place first, but now the bones had disappeared. The door was closed, but there was a bucket standing beside the doorstep.
"From the looks," said Matt, "I should say that there is some one in the hut."
"Den dose peoble must haf been pad off for some blace to go," spoke up Carl.
"Mayhap the Jurgens outfit are in there?" said Dick.
"Just what I was thinking," continued Matt.
"Den ve'd pedder look a leedle oudt or ve vill be gedding indo some hod vater."
"You and Carl slip into the edge of the timber, Dick," said Matt, "and I'll go on ahead and do some reconnoitring. If the gang is there I'll find it out, and then I'll come back and we'll decide what it is best for us to do."
"You're cutting out all the rough work for yourself," demurred Dick.
"I'm the one best able to stand it," was the answer. "You're far from being yourself, old chap, and Carl is too much afraid of spooks to accomplish anything."