“Not very.  Tom has amused me,” replied Dick, as he pointed to a branch over his head.  Ned looked up, and there was Tom gazing benignly down upon him.

“Wonder if Tom is hungry?” said Ned.

“Guess not.  I tried him with a piece of alligator steak, and he turned his nose up at that.”

“What do you think he would say to a mess of fish?” and Ned produced his fish-hook and line.  Dick’s eyes glistened.

“Oh!  I am so hungry for some broiled fish.”

Most Florida streams are alive with fish that are not fussy about the tackle with which they are taken.  Ned baited his hook with a piece of alligator, which was promptly seized by a salt-water cat.  The cat-fish was given to the wildcat, which grabbed it fiercely.  Two mangrove snappers were the result of a few minutes’ fishing.  Ned put some tamarinds in one of the quart tins, which he filled with water and then stirred with a stick of sugar-cane which had been peeled and split.

Dick perked up a good deal during his supper of broiled fish, palmetto cabbage and tamarind water, after which Ned made him a tin of tea from the leaves of the sweet bay.  In the days that followed Ned gathered oysters, which he found some distance down the river, caught fish and killed several heron and a young curlew with sticks.  The broils, roasts and stews which he made would have done credit to a professional cook.  He wanted to set snares for rabbits and birds, but had to give it up owing to the difficulty of making a snare which would distinguish between Tom, whom he didn’t wish to catch, and the rabbits which he wanted.

Dick was improving, but so very slowly that Ned determined to find his way to the coast and get help.  He put it off, at Dick’s request, for several days, until they had been in camp a week, when one afternoon it was agreed that Ned should start early the next morning.  Dick, who was feeling very blue at the prospect of Ned’s leaving him, was lying on his bed of moss when suddenly he sat up.

CHAPTER XXII

THE RESCUE

“Listen, Ned, listen!  There is a motor-boat in the river.  Don’t you hear it?”

“I don’t hear it, Dick.”

“But you must hear it.  It’s growing plainer every minute.  It’s a four-cycle engine, and a fast boat, too.  I can tell you that.  Who can it be?  Do you suppose it is your father looking for you?”

“I hear it now.  No, it isn’t Dad.  My time isn’t up for several days yet.  After that anything might happen, but until then Dad won’t lift a finger toward looking me up.”

“Oh, Ned!  It’s coming nearer, nearer, nearer!  There!  It’s ’round the bend.  Of course, you see it now.  How it is coming!”

“You bet it’s coming.  You ought to see the water pile up against the bow.  It’s a glass-cabin launch.  There’s a man standing on top of the cabin.  I think he sees us, for he is pointing this way, and—­the boat’s headed straight for us—­hear that whistle, and—­Dick, Dick, boy!—­there’s a tall man and a girl standing in front of the pilot-house, and—­oh, Dick! it’s too good to be true, but it’s Dad and Molly!”