“I know,” said Larry petulantly. “God, I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?”

He turned over to scan the marshes. In the distance he could see Mope’s Bottom, but around it and as far as he could see there was no sign of life.

“Not a soul, Billy,” he observed. “All the same I don’t like it. It is early yet and if Labar wasn’t bluffing we’ll be in a hole⁠—in every sense.”

“We could take a chance and bolt for it now,” said the other. “No use waiting till it’s too late.”

The eyes of the two men met. There was a significance in Billy Bungey’s words that Larry did not fail to appreciate. He remained silent and thoughtful, and the rougher scoundrel slid back to the trapdoor.

“You there, Tom?” he asked. “Get back to the boys, will you? It looks reasonably clear here, but the boss and I are going to take a bit of a look round. We’ll be along presently.”