The guide made no answer.  Wearied with doing nothing all day, save lying around on the deck of the Arrow a prey to seasickness, he had fallen asleep.  Above the splash of the surf and the rustle of the wind in the palmettos, his snores could be heard distinctly, making night hideous.  Alec was on the point of waking him with a nudge in the ribs, when Hugh restrained him.

“Let him sleep, Alec,” he whispered.  “Poor old Injun, he’s comfortable at last!”

“So am I,” added Chester, stretching himself out on the warm sand.  “This is better than those stuffy little bunks in the cabin, isn’t it?”

The next minute he regretted those words, for Captain Vinton looked at him with an aggrieved expression, as if peeved to hear any disparagement of the Arrow.  The good captain was inordinately proud of his sloop, which he preferred to all other craft; indeed, had he been offered the command of one of the gigantic Atlantic liners, it is likely that he would have declined the honor.

Presently Vinton rose and, beginning to stroll up and down the beach, looked all around him and up at the sky in the scrutinizing way which seafaring men have when they retire for the night or turn out in the morning, to ascertain what sort of weather they may expect.

Overhead, he saw large masses of clouds scudding across the starry heavens, driven by the wind which bid fair to continue all night and all the next day.  Off on the lagoon loomed the dark hulk and slender mast of the sloop, rising and falling on the choppy waves, her bow light gleaming across the water like a watchful eye.  At his feet lay the dory, drawn up on the sand and moored by a line fastened to a palmetto, well out of reach of the rising tide.

Behind him sparkled the ruddy camp fire with the recumbent figures of the five scouts, Norton and the Indian grouped around it, and nearby lay the neat little pile of provisions and utensils covered with a tarpaulin.  What matter if rain should chance to fall during the night?  They had brought light blankets and rubber ponchos from the sloop, so they would be well protected.

Everything was safe and in order; he was satisfied and at peace with all mankind,—–­even with the smugglers who had roused his righteous wrath,—–­and his youthful companions were happy, enjoying the cruise and their adventures.

So unpromising did the weather beyond the keys look, and so congenial seemed the lagoon and this sheltered islet, the captain came to the conclusion that it would not be amiss if they should linger there a day or two longer than they had planned.  After all, Alec’s father had set no time limit for the cruise and the boys were in no hurry to return to Santario.

Thinking thus, he rejoined his crew around the fire and heard them discussing a plan to take the dory and row out on the lagoon in the morning, if it were not too rough, in the hope of catching some fresh fish for breakfast.  He assented to this plan, for he himself intended to go aboard the Arrow the first thing on the morrow to look her over and see how she had weathered the night.  Wrapping himself in a blanket and bidding the boys follow his example, he lay down beside the embers and was soon asleep.