.

Jim lounged in the window and smoked his cigarette while Ella and Mary
chattered in the kitchenette.

In half an hour the scrub-woman had made her last trip with the extra
dishes, and the little home was spick and span.

Mary sprang on the couch and snuggled into Jim's arms.

"I've changed our plans----" he began thoughtfully.

"We won't give up our honeymoon trip?" she cried in alarm. "That's one
dream we MUST live, Jim, dear. I've set my heart on it."

"Sure we will--sure," he answered quickly. "But not in that car."

"Why?"

Jim grinned.

"Because I like you better--you get me, Kiddo?"

She pressed close and whispered:

"I think so."

"You see, that fool car might throw a tire or two. Believe me, it'll
be a job to have her on my hands for a thousand miles. Of course, if I
didn't know you, little girl, it would be all sorts of fun. But, honest
to God, this game beats the world."

He bent low and kissed her again.

"Where'll we go, then?" she murmured.

"That's what I'm tryin' to dope out. I like the sea. It lulls me just
like whisky puts a drunkard to sleep. I wish we could get where it's
bright and warm and the sun shines all the time. We could stay two
weeks and then jump on the train and be in Asheville the day before
Christmas."

Mary sprang up excitedly.

"I have it! We'll go to Florida--away down to the Keys. It's the dream
of my life to go there!"

"The Keys what's that?" he asked, puzzled.

"The Keys are little sand islands and reefs that jut out into the warm
waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The railroad takes us right there."

"It's warm and sunny there now?"

"Just like summer up here. We can go in bathing in the surf every day."

Jim sprang to his feet.

"Got a bathing suit?"

"Yes--a beauty. I've never worn it here."

"Why?"

"It seemed so bold."

"All right. Maybe we can get a Key all by ourselves for two weeks."

"Wouldn't it be glorious!"

"We'll try it, anyhow. I'll buy the doggoned thing if they don't ask too
much. Pack your traps. I'll go down to the shop and get my things. We'll
be ready to start in an hour."

By four o'clock they were seated in the drawing-room of a Pullman car
on the Florida Limited, gazing entranced at the drab landscape of the
Jersey meadows.

Three days later, Jim had landed his boat on a tiny sand reef a
half-mile off the coast of Florida with a tent and complete outfit for
camping. Like two romping children, they tied the boat to a