ing along the shore, you can see
where a key offers the same sort of refuge we enjoyed last night. In
cruising along this coast, it's the only thing to do--run behind one of
those islands each night. Only big boats anchor off shore. It's too
dangerous for little craft, for a storm is liable to spring up during the
night."

In this way Frank went on. They decided that since there seemed to be
several possible havens ahead, they had better keep right on until the
day waned, or they found themselves forced by a change in the weather to
seek shelter.

Jerry had a line trailing astern, with a hook at the end, to which he had
attached a bit of white rag. In less than ten minutes after he threw it
out he pulled in a gamy fish that might have weighed a couple of pounds.

"A cavalli," said Joe; and they were glad indeed to have a native along
who could post them on such things as might have puzzled them.

"Good to eat, is it?" asked Jerry, eyeing the forked tail, which, in this
fish, resembles that of the Spanish mackerel.

"Fine. Not so good as pompano, but better than bonita," was Joe's
verdict.

"All right. He looks good to me," said Bluff. "Do it some more, Jerry. We
need a couple more to make good all around."

"Now, talk to me about that, will you! Listen to how the greedy fellow
gauges everybody's appetite by his own voracious longings."

But in spite of his talk, Jerry, being a sportsman to his finger-tips, as
he was fond of saying, was only too glad to make a second trial.

This time he had hardly half of his line out when there was a sudden
vicious jerk.

"Wow! Nearly took a finger off then! Look at the line whizz, will you?
Must have struck a whale!" he cried. But, after all, it was another
cavalli (sometimes called crevalle), and not much larger than the first.

So the sport went on until he had brought five to the boat, when he gave
up.

"Too hard on the fingers, boys. You see, we're spinning along at a lively
clip, and a two-pound fish feels like a ton. I'm all in," he explained.

"Well, we want to keep the fish until evening. Will, here, is dying to
clean them for us," said Frank.

"No! no! That is my part of the work!" exclaimed Joe, nor would he hear
of anything else.

Noon came and went. Their progress was altogether satisfactory. All of
them admitted that outside of that one puzzling breakdown, the motor was
working like a charm. It was indeed a pleasure to lie around and see the
green waves