“Hi, you!  Come back here after me!  Think I’m Bluff, and want a mortgage on the whole blooming bed, don’t you?  Shove me the little dinghy, if you’re afraid of scratching more of the varnish off Cousin Archie’s boat!” he shouted.

“Hold on!  Please wait!  I want to get a picture of him standing there in the big bay, just as if he owned the sea.  It’s Neptune, coming out of the water, you know,” called Will beseechingly.

So Jerry felt constrained to humor the artist, and assume a position that, according to Will’s idea, accorded with his condition of lonesomeness.

“I think we’ll just pole along, fellows, and not run the motor.  I guess we don’t want to go very far in, anyhow, for we’ll have the dickens of a time getting out again in the morning,” remarked Frank.

“There’s some sort of a shack over yonder on the mainland,” remarked Will.

Frank took a look.

“Possibly the place where some of those turtlers put up when out after their game.  They keep the green turtles in what they call a ‘crawl,’ until ready to set sail for Cedar Keys.  I’m told we’ll see lots of them there,” remarked Frank.

“I can see an old boat drawn up on shore, but not the first sign of life about the place.  There’s a buzzard sitting on a dead tree—­yes, a row of ’em!  My!  I hope there ain’t anybody dead in there!”

Will had brought out Frank’s marine glasses, and was looking through them as he gave utterance to this forlorn expression.

“Oh! let up on that, Will!  You give a fellow the creeps.  Just why should there be any one dead yonder?  Buzzards are found everywhere in Florida, millions of ’em.  I reckon the shack is deserted.  To prove it, I’m going to paddle over and see, just as soon as we get fast to our mudhook again,” remarked Jerry.

“And that will be right now,” said Frank.  “Give it a toss, Bluff.  Here we seem to be in a little spot deeper than the rest of the bayou, and with room to swing around with a change of wind without fouling our anchor or going aground again on any miserable oyster bed.”

“Look here!  I’ve got a grievance,” remarked Bluff.

“All right.  Let’s hear it,” laughed Will.

“If he takes the dinghy, how in the world am I going to gather the oysters for our supper?  Frank said the very next mess we got he would give us scalloped oysters, and I’m just feeling hungry that way,” complained Bluff.

“Oh, don’t worry.  I’ll be back in half an hour, at the most.  Besides, if you want to, you can put on these heavy shoes of mine, drop over the side, and wade to the bar.  It’s warm in the water, and delightful,” remarked Jerry, slipping over into the small boat, with his rifle in his hand.

“Well, there’s no depending on you.  Half an hour, did you say?  More than likely that means about dark, if there’s any temptation to hunt ashore.  So I suppose I’ll just have to duck, and do the great wading act.  For I count it next door to a crime to be so near delicious oysters and not have them at least once a day.”