[Illustration:  “THEY HAULED THE HEAD OF THE BRUTE OVER THE SIDE OF THE BOAT”]

“Captain Hull,” said Ned, as the whole party were watching the stars from the cabin top and waiting for the moon to rise that night, “we have got back from the Madeira Hammock every thing we lost there, so we will start for Miami to-morrow.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“You know you said we might lose a day round here, and now we have got a day to spare.”

“You’ll be lucky if you don’t lose it.  There’s lots of chances between here and Miami, or between here and anywhere.  There isn’t six inches between the Irene’s bottom and the rocks this minute and we’re going to stir the mud a dozen times to-morrow.”

“Supposing a storm comes while we are anchored so near the rocks?”

“Anybody who supposes in this country won’t ever do anything else.”

“Would we make anything by another night run?”

“Make sure to pile up on a bank so high that you’d have time to homestead a farm before you got off.”

The Irene stirred the mud a few times the next day, but passed through Blackwater, Barnes and Card sounds and all the cuts and channels to Biscayne Bay without trouble.  There a high wind and a heavy sea held her back, so that it was dusk when the anchor was dropped just outside of the mouth of Miami River.  During this, their last evening on the cabin roof of the Irene, Mr. Barstow said to Dick: 

“Do you feel perfectly well and strong again?”

“Never felt so well before in my life and am getting my strength back fast.”

“Then vacation ends for you and Ned to-day.  To-morrow morning you will take the train for the North, where you will have about two weeks to spend with your mother.  I will wire her from Miami about our arrangement, which I am sure she will approve, and tell her when she may expect you.  Very soon you will receive your instructions.  You and Ned will be together, work the same, pay the same, and both of you have my perfect confidence that you will justify every hope I have of you.”

“Mr. Barstow, I haven’t any words—­”

“Don’t say anything, Dick, I understand it all, my boy.  Just go ahead and make good, both for yourself and me.”

[Illustration:  “HE TOOK THE BABY CROCODILE IN HIS ARMS”]

In the morning Ned and the captain distinguished themselves by waking up a dealer, buying some lumber, hustling it aboard and having the two crocodiles boxed up for transportation North in time for the train of that day.  How much of a feat that was requires a residence in South Florida to appreciate.

The Irene was run up the river to the railroad dock, where the crocodiles were put on the cars and the boys took their train for the North.  When the good-byes were said, the captain carried Tom across the dock on his shoulder and Dick’s last act before leaving was to formally present him to Molly.