No one else was alarmed, for Mr. Barstow was asleep in his bunk below, while Molly and Dick were too busy watching the effect of the moonlight on the breaking waves and the distant keys to notice that anything unusual was happening.  Soon the water became deeper, the waves ceased breaking and subsided, and the Irene sailed smoothly on till she was hauled up in the wind to enter the cut in the bank near Lignum Vitae Key, through which an adverse tide was pouring.  Dick was called from his post near the bow to start the motor, which was kept running until the boat had made her way through the channel between the white banks that showed clear under the moon as daylight could have made them.  Then the motor was shut off and Dick returned to his post and resumed his study of moonlight effects as its rays fell on the palms of Lignum Vitae, the line of outer keys, the Matecumbies, and the jewel of an Indian Key, of which he told Molly the legend.  At this Molly jumped up and said: 

“It’s all too lovely for anything and Daddy has got to come on deck and see it.”

She went below and when she returned had Mr. Barstow in tow, to whom she pointed out the beauties of sea and sky, of clouds and light just as Dick had been doing to her.  Then she went for Captain Hull, who turned the wheel over to Ned and came forward, where he answered the rapid fire of the girl’s questions, about Shell, McGinty and other keys as they passed them and about the channel and cuts through which their course lay, until he assured her he had told all he knew and if she remembered it she was as good a pilot as he.  But questions continued until, having passed Tavernier Creek and neared Hammer Point, the Irene was anchored for the night.

All hands were on deck when the rays of the next morning’s sun first fell on the mirror-like water about them, but Ned spoke sadly as he said: 

“I’ve shipped as cook and I s’pose I’ve got to get breakfast, but I wish my assistant didn’t waste so much of her time.”

“If you’d let me keep the cook I hired we’d have crawfish for breakfast,” said Captain Hull.

“Where would we get them?” inquired Ned.

“Every one of these coral keys is built on crawfish and Snake Creek here is full of ’em.”

“Then after you’ve shown us a lot of crawfish and we’ve caught them we’ll have breakfast.”

Captain Hull lashed two tarpon hooks to broomsticks, and getting in the skiff with Molly and the two boys, poled to the nearest key.  Beneath the water the steep coral banks of the key were filled with deep holes from out of many of which long feelers projected.  Pushing a hook into one of these holes the captain gave it a quick turn and brought out a squirming, squeaking imitation of a young lobster.  Then he handed the hooks to the boys.  Ned got overboard and began to haul out crawfish at the rate of two a minute.  Dick was less successful, for Molly had promptly commandeered his hook and left him nothing to do but watch her when she tried to hook the shell-fish.  They didn’t get many fish and when Ned came along with a bunch of crawfish which he dropped in the skiff, he said: