"Well, the 'Glades are a good stiff hike from here," replied the
captain. "Eh, Dave; how about it?"

The guide made no answer. Wearied with doing nothing all day, save
lying around on the deck of the _Arrow_ a prey to seasickness, he had
fallen asleep. Above the splash of the surf and the rustle of the
wind in the palmettos, his snores could be heard distinctly, making
night hideous. Alec was on the point of waking him with a nudge
in the ribs, when Hugh restrained him.

"Let him sleep, Alec," he whispered. "Poor old Injun, he's comfortable
at last!"

"So am I," added Chester, stretching himself out on the warm sand.
"This is better than those stuffy little bunks in the cabin, isn't it?"

The next minute he regretted those words, for Captain Vinton looked
at him with an aggrieved expression, as if peeved to hear any
disparagement of the _Arrow_. The good captain was inordinately
proud of his sloop, which he preferred to all other craft; indeed,
had he been offered the command of one of the gigantic Atlantic
liners, it is likely that he would have declined the honor.

Presently Vinton rose and, beginning to stroll up and down the beach,
looked all around him and up at the sky in the scrutinizing way which
seafaring men have when they retire for the night or turn out in the
morning, to ascertain what sort of weather they may expect.

Overhead, he saw large masses of clouds scudding across the starry
heavens, driven by the wind which bid fair to continue all night and