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