“We can stand it if you can.  The marks on this boy will settle your case for you.  Better go on about your business.  We don’t want any fight, but just make up your minds that if you start it we’re going to shoot holes through every one of your crowd.  That’s enough talk.  Now, twenty-three for yours!”

It was seldom that Frank used slang, but just then he was in want of a better expression by means of which to give vent to his feelings.

Bluff was already sitting down and eating, though he kept hold of his gun at the same time, like a true soldier on duty.  The trio of spongers talked among themselves for a short time, then, with many harsh words, they pushed their boat around with a pole until the dingy canvas took the breeze again, after which they sailed away.

“A good riddance of bad rubbish,” declared Bluff, with his mouth full of bacon; and the others voiced his sentiments exactly.

As for the boy, he was smiling as if tickled over the wonderful change that had come about in his fortunes.  Frank, remembering the limp form squatting in the stern of the sharpie, so given up to despair and bodily anguish, could hardly believe that this bright-faced lad was the same.

They did not linger long after finishing breakfast.

While the weather remained favorable Frank thought they ought to be making further progress along their way.  True, Cedar Keys was not so very far distant, but who could say what difficulties they might encounter from time to time?

“It will do to loiter when we’ve arrived within a dozen or two miles of the city,” he remarked, and they all admitted the wisdom of his decision.

They went out the same way they had come in.  Joe said it was safer, since the lagoon was exceedingly shallow at the east end of the island, and they stood to get aground if the tide was falling, as seemed to be the case.

As they came out from behind the key they discovered the sharpie far away to the west, careening over under a brisk morning breeze, and looking like a dun-colored frightened bird.

“We’re not apt to see anything of that tough lot again, I guess,” quoth Jerry.

“They’re heading for a favorite ground.  I didn’t know they hunted sponges so far north, Joe.  Key West seems to be the head center for the business.”

“Get a few, but not many.  Mostly fishing and turtling.  Some look for coral on the bottom.  Lots of ways to earn a living around the water in the gulf,” replied the boy, in answer to Frank’s inquiry.

“I should say there were.  A man need never go hungry in this region if he knows enough to let strong drink alone,” said Will.

“That’s the trouble with Uncle Ben; he’s drunk half the time.  And when he is he wants to fight everybody.  We all tried to keep away from him,” observed Joe.

They were now out upon the gulf again.  Will was a little dubious, remembering his bitter experience of the preceding day, but to his surprise and delight, he did not seem to feel the least bit sick.  Perhaps the motion was entirely different, for they were now running almost directly into the light breeze.