“No use feeling that way,” suggested Jerry.  “Just think of the good times we had in her, not only on this last trip, but on the previous cruises.”

“This last was the best,” remarked Bob, with something like a sigh.  “It was lovely down there in Florida.”

“I guess he’s thinking of the Seabury girls,” put in Ned, with a wink at Jerry.

“No more than you are!” exclaimed Bob.  “I guess you were rather sweet on Olivia, yourself.”

“Or was it Rose or Nellie?” asked Jerry with a laugh.  “They were all three nice—­ very nice.”

“That’s right,” said Ned, fervently.

The three young ladies the boys referred to were daughters of a Mr. Nathan Seabury, whom the boys met while cruising about the everglades and adjacent rivers and lakes.  He was in his houseboat Wanderer, traveling for his health.  Mr. Seabury owned a large hotel in Florida and his meeting with the boys, especially with Jerry, was a source of profit to Mrs. Hopkins.

She owned some land in Florida; but did not consider it of any value.  It developed that it adjoined Mr. Seabury’s hotel property and, as he wished it to enlarge his building, he purchased the lot for a goodly sum.

The three boys, after the return of the Dartaway and Wanderer from the strange waters, had stopped for a week at Mr. Seabury’s hotel, before journeying north.

“I’d like to see them again,” said Bob, after a pause, during which the boys turned into the street leading to the depot.

“Who?” asked Ned.

“The Seabury family.”

“Mr. Seabury—­ or—­ er—­ the girls?” asked Jerry.

“All of ’em,” replied Bob quickly.

“I had a letter the other day,” remarked Jerry quietly.

“You did!” exclaimed Ned.

“From them?” asked Bob eagerly.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a family letter,” answered Jerry, with just the suspicion of a blush.  “It was from Nellie, and she said she, her sisters and father were going to lower California.”

“To California?” exclaimed Bob and Ned.

“Yes; for Mr. Seabury’s health.  You know they said they expected to when we parted from them.  The climate of Florida did not do him any good, and they are going to try what California will do.  She asked us to call and see them, if we were ever in that neighborhood.”

“I guess our chances of going to California are pretty slim,” remarked Bob.  “Our motor boat’s gone now, and we can’t make any more cruises.”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with it,” declared Ned.  “We couldn’t very well cross the continent in her, even if we had the Dartaway, and she was rather too small to make the trip by water, even if the Panama Canal was finished.”

“Oh, well, you know what I mean,” retorted Bob, who did not exactly know himself.  “We can’t go anywhere right away.  School opens soon, and it’s buckle down and study all winter I suppose.  But—­”