CHAPTER VI
THE ISLAND WHERE THERE WERE NO ALLIGATORS
IT was four days later.
Late the previous afternoon the party, traveling in two wagons, hadreached Henry Tremaine’s Florida place at the head of Lake Okeechobee,an inland body of water, forty miles long and thirty broad, which layat the northern extremity of the famous Florida Everglades.
The Everglades is a name given to a broad section of country whoseduplicate cannot be found elsewhere in the world. It is a huge swampdistrict, dotted thickly with islands ranging in size from half an acreto islands many hundreds of acres in extent.
The Indians called this the “Grass Water” country. In the summer, orrainy season, the Everglades are practically impassable.
In some parts of the Everglades the water does not, in the dry, orwinter season, exceed a foot in depth. In other places the water has adepth of six feet or more.
Yet, in this section, on the islands, some excellent crops may beraised, so that the country is by no means a hopeless waste. But theinhabitants have some things to dread. Rattlers and other poisonoussnakes are frequently encountered in the Everglades. Watchfulness mustbe constantly exercised.
Curiously enough, many Northerners resort to the Everglades in winter.This is on account of the alligator shooting to be found there. Informer years Henry Tremaine had done much alligator shooting in thissection, having bought for a mere song a roomy, old-fashioned housethat stood in the midst of considerable grounds at the head of LakeOkeechobee.
The December day being warm, Tremaine, his wife and ward and Dixonwere out on the porch. At a little distance away sat Tom Halstead,absorbed in a book that he had brought along. Out on the porch at thismoment, bringing a pitcher of lemonade and glasses on a tray, bustledHam Mockus. For inquiry ashore had brought out the information that Hambore an excellent reputation; he had, therefore, been brought along ascook and general servant to this brief alligator hunting expedition.
Two or three hundred yards below the house a pier ran some fifty feetout into the lake. At the end of the pier was a high-hulled twenty-footgasoline launch—a boat capable of carrying fifteen passengers at apinch. Just now Joe was alone in the little craft, overhauling theengine.
“Why didn’t you help your friend!” asked Mrs. Tremaine, looking overwith a friendly smile.
“I offered to,” grimaced Halstead. “But Joe smiled in his dry way andtold me he didn’t believe I knew much about motor boats.”
“That must have made you feel quarrelsome,” laughed Ida Silsbee.
“Oh, not exactly,” grinned Captain Tom. “I suppose I do know, in ageneral way, how a gasoline motor is put together, and how to run one,if I have to. But when it comes to motors I’m certainly not in JoeDawson’s class. He’s a wonder when it comes to machinery.”
“But Dawson says,” interjected young Dixon, “that, when it comes tohandling a boat anywhere and in any sort of weather, your equal is hardto find. You two appear to form a mutual admiration society.”
Though this was said with a laugh, and in a tone at which no offensecould reasonably be taken, Tom Halstead nevertheless flushed. He hadgrown to look for slighting remarks from this young man.
“Oh, if it is a matter of believing that Captain Halstead and hisfriend are the brightest young men of their kind, I’ll subscribe,”ventured Ida Silsbee, promptly, whereat Dixon frowned as he turned hishead away.
Too-oot! toot! toot! sounded shrilly from the end of the pier: Joe wastuning up the little auto whistle on the launch.
“I guess Dawson wants me,” said Tom, rising.
“Guess again,” laughed Mrs. Tremaine, in her languid way.
For, at that moment, Joe cast off from the pier, driving the littlelaunch out into the lake. As Henry Tremaine had ordered this boat builtand delivered at Lake Okeechobee lately, and had never seen her inoperation, he now rose, and went over to the edge of the porch to watchher movements.
“Dawson certainly knows how to make a boat hum,” observed the owner ofthe place.
“It would go twice as well if Halstead were aboard,” remarked OliverDixon.
“You’ll have to stop teasing our young captain, or he’ll lose youoverboard, some dark night when we get back to sailing on the Gulf,”laughed Mrs. Tremaine. Tom fancied there was a slight note of warningin her voice.
“Oh, I wouldn’t string Halstead,” rejoined Dixon, dryly. “I esteem himtoo highly and take him too seriously for that.”
“Cut it!” uttered Tremaine, in a low voice, as he passed Dixon. Thatyoung man started, at such a peremptory command. He glanced over atIda Silsbee, to see a flash of angry remonstrance in her handsome darkeyes.
“Why does the girl take such an interest in this young booby ofa so-called captain?” Dixon asked himself, uncomfortably. Then,stretching slightly and indolently, to hide his discomfiture, the youngman vanished inside the house.
Joe, meantime, was circling about on the lake, sounding his whistleonce in a while, as though he wished to invite the attention of thoseon the porch. At last he turned and sped back to the pier.
“She seems to run all right, Joe,” called Halstead, as his chum came upthe boardwalk.
“Runs first rate for a little lake boat,” replied Dawson.
“Are you really pleased with the craft?” inquired Henry Tremaine. “Iwish you’d tell me candidly, because I ordered her by mail, on thebuilder’s representations. He claimed she’d make fifteen miles an hour.”
“The boat will do eleven, all right,” nodded Joe. “That’s pretty goodas fresh water launches run.”
“Three hours to luncheon,” said Halstead, musingly, looking at hiswatch. “You spoke of going out this afternoon, Mr. Tremaine. Would youcare about going now?”
“No,” said the owner. “I’m going inside soon to write some letters.”Mrs. Tremaine shook her head when Tom glanced at her.
“I’ll go out with you, Captain Halstead,” cried Miss Silsbee, rising.“Almost anything is better than sitting idly here.”
“Do you want to go out again, Joe!” asked Halstead, looking at his chum.
“I would if I were needed, but you can handle the boat all right, oldfellow.”
“Come on, then, Captain, since you and I are the only ones who areenergetic enough to start,” cried Ida, gayly.
“I’ll ring for Ham, and have him tell Mr. Dixon that there’s a seat forhim in the boat,” proposed Mrs. Tremaine.
“If you do,” retorted Miss Silsbee, in a low voice, “I’ll stay ashore.Mr. Dixon is very pleasant and attentive, but it’s a pleasure to gosome places without him.”
Tom, who was going slowly down the boardwalk, did not hear this. Idaran nimbly after him.
“Hurry along, Captain,” she cried, “and we won’t have to be botheredwith an unnecessary third.”
Skipper Tom glanced at her in some surprise. He knew Dixon to be deeplydevoted to this beautiful girl, and had thought that she was interestedin Dixon.
“I suppose he sticks too closely to her, though,” thought Halstead.“Any girl likes to have a little time to herself.”
So he helped her gallantly into the launch, started the motor and castoff.
“Hullo, there!” shouted Dixon, running out onto the porch. “Wait! I’llgo with you!”
“Make believe you don’t hear him,” murmured Ida, pouting.
Nothing loath, when backed by such a command, Captain Halstead threw onfull speed, sending the launch speeding to the southward. He kept hisgaze for some time on the water, seeking for shallows.
“You don’t like Mr. Dixon very well, do you?” inquired Miss Silsbee,abruptly, after a while.
Tom started, looking up to find her gaze intently fixed on his face.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s just a supposition. I know Mr. Dixon must annoy you a gooddeal with his teasing. So you can’t very well like him.”
“Let us suppose it another way,” Tom smiled back into her eyes.“Per
haps he doesn’t like me, and that’s why he is sometimes—well,perhaps a little bit sarcastic.”
“I don’t see how he can help liking you,” returned Ida Silsbee,frankly.
“Why?”
“Well, you’re all that’s manly, Captain Halstead.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, I mean it,” pursued the girl, earnestly. “And I’m so much olderthan you that I know you won’t mind my saying it. What I am tryingto arrive at is that I don’t want you to get any idea that Mr. Dixonreflects the sentiment of the rest of the party.”
“I haven’t formed that impression, Miss Silsbee. You all have treatedme splendidly—even after that miserable affair of the other morning.”
“Oh, Mr. Tremaine is as sorry as possible about that,” cried the girl.“He told me himself that he’d much rather lose the money than haveanything happen to wound the feelings of Mr. Dawson or yourself. Hesays you are two of the staunchest, most splendid young fellows heever expects to meet. It seems he knew that our danger in the gale,the other night, was far greater than he let Mrs. Tremaine or myselfsuspect. He tells us you were both cool, and brave, and that such youngmen couldn’t be anything but splendid and upright. Mr. Tremaine sayshe’d cheerfully fight any man who tried to throw doubt over eitheryourself or Mr. Dawson.”
“That’s fine of him,” said Tom, gratefully, then added, moodily: “Justthe same, I wish that affair of the missing money could be cleared upsome way. It hangs over me, in my own mind.”
“Then suppose you let me carry your burden for you for a while,”proposed Ida Silsbee, looking at him with laughing eyes. “Only, I can’tpromise not to be careless. I might drop the burden over the firststone wall.”
After that the pair chatted merrily enough, while Tom ran the boatalong mile after mile, under the soft Florida winter sun. The day waswarmer than usual even in this far southern spot.
As the launch glided along they passed small islands now and then, forLake Okeechobee is well supplied with them.
“Oh, see there! Run in at that island—do!” begged Ida. “See thatbeautiful moss hanging from that tree. It’s different from any otherhanging moss I’ve seen. I’d dearly love to dry some of that moss andtake it North with me.”
So Tom ran the launch in under slow headway, reached it, and took ahitch of the bow line around the trunk of a small tree that grew at thewater’s edge.
“Now, help me down, as gallantly as you can,” appealed Ida Silsbee,standing in the bow of the boat, one hand resting at her skirt.
“You coming ashore?” cried Tom, almost protestingly. “Oh, Miss Silsbee,I am afraid!”
“Of what?”
“Rattlers, or other snakes that may abound on this island.”
“Yet you’re not afraid for yourself.”
“I think I can protect myself.”
“Then why not protect me? Oh, I _do_ want to go ashore.”
Worried, Halstead stepped back into the boat and picked up the stouttiller stick that was meant to be thrust into the rudder post in casethe wheel-gear became disabled.
“Keep right behind me, then, please,” begged the young skipper, holdingthe tiller stick in readiness for any reptilian foe he might espy.
The tree in question was some distance inland on the island, past arise in the ground. Tom, eternally vigilant, piloted Miss Silsbeeslowly along, scanning every inch of the ground near them. At last theyreached the tree. After inspecting all the ground near by, Halsteadclimbed the tree, detaching and throwing down a quantity of the prettymoss, which the girl laughingly gathered in her arms. Then the youngskipper descended.
“I wonder if my guardian intends to do his alligator hunting anywherearound here?” asked the girl.
“Oh, no; the alligators seldom venture into this lake,” Tom replied.“We have to go the length of the lake, I understand, and then penetratefor some distance into the Everglades. There are no alligators here.”
Just at that moment they came to the rise in the ground, then passed onto descend to the boat.
“No alligators here——” Tom began again, but paused, paling and staringaghast.
For out of the water and up onto the beach crawled two monstroustwelve-foot alligators. They halted on the land just before the boat,opening and snapping their great jaws.
“Ugh! That’s a fine sight to run upon when a fellow hasn’t anyfirearms,” grated Halstead, hoarsely. He felt the gooseflesh startingall over him.
The Motor Boat Club in Florida; or, Laying the Ghost of Alligator Swamp Page 6
