H. L. Sayler

“ With a dozen long sweeps of the oars, the life boat rose and fell, holding her own against the sea, and then came the welcome “chug,” “chug,” of the motor, and the propeller took hold.
“Pull in the line men,” shouted Captain Joe. As the Escambia slowly forged seaward, Tom and Hal shipped their oars, and, bracing themselves against the wind and spray, laboriously drew Bob and Jerry into the boat. ”

“ At times, as the Anclote held her course east-south-east, the trees thinned and a glimpse of the morass beneath met the eye. Some of these openings revealed ponds and even lakes. But the water was no longer blue or silvery. It lay glistening black like broken coal. Sighting one of these buried lakes, Bob swept the machine lower to have a closer view. As the whirr of the propellers came echoing back with a hollow, drum-like sound, a flock of snow white herons rose from an island of rotting logs.
“See him?” exclaimed Tom. ”

“ Mac and Captain Joe smiled. They knew that only death itself could come between a real tarpon fisher and his prize.
“Keep those kids off me, Mac,” savagely exclaimed Tom. “Put ’em in the hold.”
At a quarter to one o’clock, the battle was over. The sails were dropped again, and Captain Joe, not Jerry, sank the gaff into the conquered fish. As Tom’s rod and reel dropped on the deck and the exhausted boy fell backwards, four willing pairs of arms pulled his victim into the boat. It was six feet, seven inches long, and weighed one hundred and fifty-three pounds. ”

“ It was the time for dreaming. His head on his hand, Bob drifted far from the reality of day. Anclote Key drifted with him into the shadowy world of romance. The Spaniards of old were again sailing the seas before him and where he now lay, the red men, who had been dazed by the sheen of knightly De Soto’s armor, might have met to stay the approach of the invaders of the new world.
Then later days came—days of West Indian marauding at sea, wherein turbanned cut-throats ravaged the Spanish Main for slaves and colonial merchandize and killed men too for the pleasure of killing. ”

“ When, about five o’clock, the Three Sisters rounded the west end of Santa Rosa Island and stood out to sea, Tom, Hal and Bob were on the forward deck, their legs sprawled out and their backs to the foremast, their hands and faces already salt encrusted and their tongues wagging.
As the little schooner finally came about and headed west, Bob exclaimed:
“It certainly gets cool quickly out here. Beyond the protection of the land, I suppose,” he added, as the Three Sisters began to feel the rising swell. ”

“ With the wild possibility of a mid-air rescue gripping his brain, the cool-headed aviator pulled his levers and, cold with apprehension, curved the aeroplane toward the towering tree. He could do no more. There was but one way he could help the boy perched on the dead branches.
To bring the swinging ladder squarely within reach was Bob’s task. Tom must do the rest. If he missed the ladder, it would undoubtedly mean death in the pathless swamp, from which not even his body might be recovered. ”

“ The first sight of the Three Sisters schooner, freshly scrubbed and resplendent in its spring coat of green and blue paint, was reward to Mrs. Balfour and Bob for the hot walk on the long, fishy, crowded pier. Captain Joe, pipe in mouth, was lounging on the dock.
The fishing excursion was out of the question, but Mrs. Balfour—somewhat to Bob’s surprise—at [39] once acquiesced in Captain Joe’s proposal that she and her son go for an hour’s sail. The boat was roomy and substantial, and the ease with which the old red-girdled sailor handled his spread of canvas reassured Mrs. Balfour. ”

“ As soon as the Three Sisters was well on her way out into the bay, Bob gave his attention to Jerry. Neither Tom nor Hal seemed surprised.
“Are you goin’ along as cook?” began Bob, questioning the grinning Jerry.
“Cook!” exclaimed Hal. “Can he cook?”
“I met Jerry the other day,” explained Bob, “and he told me he was the chef of the Anclote Island Club.”
Jerry’s grin was not so broad.
“He did, did he?” broke in Tom. “I only wish he knew enough to fry ham. Jerry is ouah dish washah, crab fishah, frog catchah, watah carriah, camp sweepah, boat bailah—are you anything else, Jerry?” ”

“ With gasoline sufficient for a two hundred and fifty-mile flight, the aeroplane was over Tarpon Springs in fifteen minutes, and then, rising to nearly 1,000 feet, began its cross country flight. For nearly a half hour, fruit orchards and truck farms indicated civilization, and then the rough palmetto scrub and sparse pine lands began to tell of the wilderness. Already deer were plentiful. An hour after the start, the airship still high and the engine working perfectly, the myriad small lakes and creeks began to disappear in a lower swamp land. ”

“ Mac in turn added some ideas that pleased the other boys. Withdrawing into the tent, with the aid of a candle, the first step in the conspiracy was taken.
When the plan had been well worked out, the boys took a long stroll on the moonlit shore, had a lively contest as to who could find and dump into the sea the most jelly fish, and finally, the air growing a little cool, they found it ten o’clock and that each was hungry.
“It’s no use to wait for Captain Joe,” explained Mac. “They may be here at one o’clock and they may not get in before daylight. ”

“ The hard roadway gave the Anclote an easier start than the softer ground in the factory yard. With hardly a wobble, the aeroplane took to the air again. Fragrant fruit orchards and picturesque stretches of hummock land rolled along beneath the flying car. Before half past two, thickening dwellings indicated a new town, and, with the white-topped breakers of [193] the distant ocean in sight to the west, the swiftly flying machine passed over the city of Tarpon Springs. Instantly, Bob brought the airship on a new course to the west and pointed for the red flash light on Greater Anclote. ”

“ The tired lads were in no condition to duplicate their sprint seaward. But, taking up the slow, long stroke, they began to get their second wind. There were no means of knowing whether the Escambia was having any effect on the steamer. But the hawser was taut, the oars rose and fell to Mac’s chanty of the sea, and the busy little engine kept the propeller churning ceaselessly.
“Mac,” called Tom Allen, at last, “is she comin’?”
“How kin I tell,” shouted Mac. “But Captain Joe sure ain’t waved any light fur us to stand by. Steady, boys, take yer time.” ”

“ The following spring, Hal brought with him enough money to purchase a 10-horsepower motor, which was installed in the life boat—the Escambia. That year, by purchase of “culls” from the Perdido River saw mills and a vigilant search for drift timber, the club managed to secure material to build a cabin.
“Fine,” shouted Bob at last. “If Mac Gregory don’t vote for me, I’m goin’ to miss the best thing I ever read of. But say,” and he asked the question that had been on his tongue for some minutes, “why is it the Anclote Club? And where is Anclote Island?” ”

“ Reaching ahead, to throw the forward rudder up for a still higher flight, preliminary to putting on more speed, Bob’s straining ear had caught the lessened beat that denoted a dead cylinder. He acted on impulse, and swiftly. As the forward rudder came to a level and the guiding planes in the rear shifted to stay the upward flight and bring the machine over the roadway to the left, Bob’s left hand shut off the engine.
Tom asked no questions, but he knew something had happened. The aeroplane, hurtling along under its own momentum, settled swiftly [191] toward the earth. ”

“ You can take Hal up and show him the way to do it, and then he can take Mac.”
“How about Jerry Blossom?” said Tom grinning.
“I’ll attend to Jerry. Leave him to me,” answered Bob. “But when every one has had his turn, you and I will make the real flight. We’ll try to see just what the deepest recesses of the big swamp are like.”
“You mean the hidden home of the last of the Seminoles?” suggested Tom eagerly.
“Sure,” exclaimed Bob. “If white men can’t get there by swimmin’ or by boat or on foot, it’s our duty to go. ”

“ ONE USE FOR AN AEROPLANE
Hal accepted Mrs. Balfour’s invitation to luncheon, and Jerry hastened away to eat at a restaurant. But, his weakness getting the better of him, the colored boy reached the schooner at three o’clock, foodless and moneyless, glad enough to stay himself with a hunk of Captain Joe’s bread and a piece of cold fish. While he ate this, the Three Sisters, with a supply of gasoline, a big box of fresh fruit presented by Mrs. Balfour, and the baggage of the aviators, was throwing the spray on her return trip out of the bay. ”

“ Skipper Romano was to remain aboard to see that no harm came to his vessel. The schooner, unless the wind settled in the north, was in no real danger, although, to Bob, the pitching and tossing craft seemed already in peril. The near by sand spit—almost an island—could not be seen in the darkness, but the gulf breakers pounding on its outer edge, a half mile away, told that the sea was piling up outside.
“It really isn’t much of a blow in here,” explained Tom, “but this lowah portion of the bay is crooked and shallow. An’ as theah isn’t even a moon, it’s bettah to wait fo’ daylight. ”

“ Before his mother could interpose further objections, Bob immediately began a long description of the advantages of an outing on the shores of Perdido Bay.
“You know what the doctor told us,” he added. “He said exercise was no good unless it comes in the form of pleasure—something you want to do. I never had a chance to get this sort of fun, with boys. And everything we’ll do is something I’ve wanted to do all my life.”
Then he explained the natural wonders of the bay on which the Anclote Club had its house. ”

“ All idea of going aboard the cabinless Three Sisters, or of attempting to set up the shore tent in the rain and wind had been abandoned. Captain Joe led his bedraggled, sore and shivering party to the fo’castle. In a moment, he had the big swinging lantern ablaze.
“Now, Kids,” exclaimed Mac, “git busy. Dig into them slop chests and git some rags to warm ye up an’ sleep in. An’ Jerry,” he added, “if yer ever goin’ to make good as a cook, ye got the chanst to-night. They’s a cook’s galley aboard, I reckon, an’ the least we’re a goin’ to have is coffee.” ”

“ But just then Tom Allen stepped before his leader.
“Mac,” he said in an alarmed voice, “he can’t fight. Bob’s sick.”
“Sick?” sneered Gregory. “He’s sick where I pasted him, I reckon. Come on,” he snarled, “an’ I’ll give it to ye where ye ain’t lookin’ fur it.”
Bob attempted to push Tom aside but by that time, Hal had also interfered.
“You got to wait till he’s right, Mac—’tain’t fair.”
“That’s all it takes fur some of ’em,” almost shouted Mac. “A little punch an’ a little blood an’ it’s all over. Ain’t that right, sissy?”
Even Tom and Hal could no longer restrain [55] Bob. ”

“ When they returned, Bob said smiling:
“Look here, boys, what’s the use o’ mincin’ words. We don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelin’s, but Hal and I are goin’ to speak right out.” Captain Joe and Jerry had withdrawn to attend the newly-made fires in the engine room. “It ain’t because we ever did anything to deserve it, but our fathers are what you call [133] rich men. And you fellows haven’t any fathers. If this thing figures out as big as we’re calculatin’, Hal and I want to buy the yacht—we’ll have enough.”
Mac said nothing, but Tom began shaking his head. ”