The Boy Chums Cruising in Florida Waters

by Frances Trego Montgomery

  CHAPTER XXI.

  HAPPY DAYS.

  FOR a week the weather held fair and each day found our little party,out on the reef, fishing with might and main to make as much money aspossible before Hunter returned to his old haunts and tricks. They werethoroughly agreed that they would leave the island when he came back.They were not so much afraid for themselves but they had suffered heavylosses already from his rascality and they did not care to run the riskof being put still deeper in debt.

  Meanwhile, they were contented and happy in their new pursuit. Theywere long, happy days that they spent on the reef with the sparklingblue water all around them. The bracing salt breezes giving zest totheir appetites, and the ever-new, thrilling expectancy with whichthey pulled in their prizes, speculating always before it came to thesurface its kind, and size.

  On Saturday night they figured up the credit slips they had been givenat the fish house and found that they had made one hundred and twelvedollars during the week. On Saturday night, also, they received abit of ill news which was good news for them. Bill Roberts heard itfrom the fishermen at Clearwater, and he hastened over to tell them.It was to the effect that Hunter, discharged from the hospital, waswell enough to be about, had proceeded to fill up on bad liquor incelebration of his release, and, as a result, was back in the hospitalfor a couple of weeks' more treatment.

  "It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good," quoted Charley, when heheard the news. "That gives us a couple of weeks more to fish in peace.Now if the weather only holds fair we will be able to pay what we oweand have a little left over to take us to some other place."

  But the weather did not hold fair. Sunday morning found the windblowing half a gale from the north-west and the seas rolling highoutside. Monday morning it was still blowing with unabated vigor andthe sky looked as though there was more to come.

  "It's going to last for several days," Captain Westfield declared,"then, likely, we will get another spell of fair weather."

  "Why couldn't it hold off for a couple of weeks longer," Waltergrumbled. "Every day lost means a lot to us now."

  After breakfast, Chris made ready to start out to secure a change fortheir bill of fare. Having nothing else to do the others went with him.

  His first move was to secure a supply of the great stone crabs, whoseclaws, when roasted, they had found so delicious.

  These were to be found in great numbers on the long mud flats, outin the bay, when low tide left the flats exposed. The boys could seethousands of them as they waded out to the flats. They were feeding orbasking in the sun, but at the hunters approach one and all scurriedfor their hiding places, deep, slanting holes in the soft mud. ButChris was prepared for such tactics. He had fixed for himself a longiron rod with a hook in the end which he would thrust far down intoa hole and drag out its squirming, clawing occupant. Then, he wouldkill it with a stroke of the rod, break off the great claws, and dropthem into the sack he carried. In a few minutes the little darkey hadsecured as many as they could use before they spoiled.

  The crabs were not the only inhabitants of the flats. Clams were therein plenty and in a short time they dug up all they desired. Then a tripwas made to some partly submerged rocks and a goodly supply of big flatoysters secured.

  "Strange we never see any Clearwater boys over here getting thesethings when they are so plentiful," Walter commented, as they startedback to the cabin.

  "Golly! I'se been studyin' on dat," Chris said. "'Pears to dis niggerdat we could make right smart ob money getting dese things an' sellingdem to de folks ober in de town."

  "They would hardly buy anything that is so plentiful right close totheir homes," Walter objected.

  "Oh, I don't know about that," said Charley, thoughtfully. "It's toohard work getting them for some people, I suppose. Others are too busyto take the time from their work, maybe. Likely, a lot more have noboats, and probably there are many who don't know how to get them.There may be something worth considering in Chris' proposal."

  "Let's try it," said Captain Westfield. "We don't stand to loseanything but our work."

  All went to work with a will and in a couple of hours they had securedten dozen crab claws, a couple of bushels of clams, and had opened upa couple of gallons of oysters. Chris and Charley took the lot over toClearwater right after dinner.

  In an hour the two were back.

  "They sold like hot cakes," Charley declared. "We didn't get over aquarter of the town before we sold out. We got forty cents a dozen forcrab claws, fifty cents a quart for the oysters, and ten cents a dozenfor clams."

  "You robbers!" Walter gasped, in surprise, "they are not worth that."

  "A thing is worth what you can get for it," Charley grinned. "Besides,we had to throw in an extra charge for the service, like they do in anexpensive restaurant when they charge you two dollars for a fifty centsteak."

  "Well, I reckon we can supply them with all they want at those prices,"the captain remarked, dryly. "Let's get to work."

  And work they did for the next three days, by which time the weatherhad cleared up, their market supplied for a time, and they, themselves,richer by about fifty dollars. Then they went back to their fishingagain until the next spell of bad weather should come.

  Often, as their little launch lay bobbing at her anchor, on the reef,great stately ships swept by in plain sight, traveling north or southto various ports. The captain watched them with the eager interest of aboy. Almost his whole life had been spent on the sea, and he loved itsships like a mother loves her children.

  They were watching one of these ships one day wondering idly as to whatmight be her name, port, and cargo, when Charley's gaze became centeredon a smaller craft some two miles astern of the first. Something aboutthe cut and set of her sails caught and held his attention.

  "That boat is some traveler, Captain," he observed. "See how she isdrawing up on the one ahead."

  The old sailor studied the distant craft with the eye of an expert.

  "She is going some," he admitted. "Fore and aft topsail schooner, abouteighty tons' burden. Funny, there seems something familiar in the cutof those sails and the set of those spars."

  "That's what I was thinking," Charley agreed. "I'm almost certain I'veseen that rig before."

  "See, she's changed her course and is standing in for shore," suddenlycried the observant old sailor.

  It soon became evident that he was right. The stranger came sweepingrapidly on carrying a wave of white froth before her bow.

  Her changed course would bring her within half a mile of where theylay, and, as she drew nearer, our little party ceased fishing and stoodgazing in admiration at the beautiful picture she made.

  She was a low-hulled, black-painted schooner, keeling over under apress of snowy canvas, until her lee rail was buried in a smother offoam.

  "I believe she is headed right for our island," Charley observed.

  "If her captain does not know these waters pretty well he'll be liableto pile that beauty up on a rock," Captain Westfield said, anxiously.

  It soon become evident that her pilot knew his ground for theschooner's course was shifted again and again as her commanderjockeyed her around hidden rocks and through winding channels.

  Soon her crew began to take in sail. One after another the snow-whitesheets came in until stripped to mainsail and storm staysail sherounded up a mile from shore and hung motionless in the wind.

  A tiny blot of color appeared on her deck and crept slowly up herforemast. At the top it opened up, a fluttering red flag.

  "She's signalling," the captain exclaimed.

  "I have it," Charley cried. "She's that smuggling craft. Her captain istrying to get in touch with the Hunter gang. No wonder I thought I hadseen her before."

  "I wasn't as lucky as you in getting a glimpse of her that night,"remarked the captain, "but I have seen that craft somewhere before. Iwonder where it was."

  "That likeness to some boat I know struck me hard the night I saw herby the light of the flar
e, but I guess it's only a chance resemblance,"Charley said. "Well, if they are waiting to hear from Hunter, they havea long wait ahead of them."

  "I wonder how Hunter communicated with her before he was hurt," Walterpondered.

  "There's no mystery about that," his chum replied. "That's the simplestpart of the affair. It only takes a couple of days to get a letter toCuba. I expect she has more aguardiente aboard now. Likely he wrote toher captain for a fresh supply as soon as he discovered that the otherwas gone. He doubtless planned to have us off the island before itarrived but his trip to the hospital has upset all his plans."

  "They are bold to try to bring it in in broad daylight," observed theCaptain.

  "Oh, I daresay, they wouldn't attempt to land it until after dark, andthere's nothing in her appearance to excite suspicion. If any boat camenear her they could quickly slip out a couple of miles further and defycapture. Uncle Sam's jurisdiction does not extend out more than fourmiles from shore."

  The beautiful schooner remained hove to all the afternoon andapparently waiting an answer to her signal, but, at last, her skipper,probably deciding that something was wrong, crowded on all sail andglided swiftly out to sea.

  When our little party started home the schooner was a mere, distantspeck on the horizon.

  "This is the second trip she has made and landed nothing," Walterobserved. "After such luck, I should not think they would try again."

  "Oh, Hunter will likely write them the reason for his not being onhand and arrange for another meeting," Charley said. "They probablymake enough money out of the business to be able to stand a fewdisappointments."