Frank said nothing, but the smile on his face was a satisfied one.
Indeed, it could not well be otherwise. Any boy who loved camping and
cruising as much as he did must have been thrilled at the prospect of
running that jaunty little craft for a spell, navigating new waterways
and making discoveries constantly, such as are calculated to please the
hearts of hunters and water-dogs in general.

The motor-boat was one of the most modern make. It had an automobile hood
for the front, and this could be so extended that the entire boat was
shielded. On the other hand, on sunny days it could be pushed back,
allowing of perfect freedom.

The journey south had been effected without any accident. They were now
stopping at a little hotel in this town on the river where the railroad
crossed. It was a section of Northern Florida. The great and mysterious
Gulf of Mexico, they knew, lay not a far stretch away toward the south.
Indeed, Jerry had declared he could already smell salt water, though his
chums laughed at him, and declared that it was more likely the odor of
the mud along the bank of the narrow but deep stream down which they
expected to cruise shortly.

"All the same, I'll be mighty glad to set eyes on that same gulf," said
Jerry; "I've always wanted to see it, ever since I read about the
doings of those old filibusters who used to lie in wait and seize the
treasure ships going home from the Spanish Main."

"Listen to him, will you?" broke out Bluff, laughing. "Honest, now, I
believe he expects to run across a few of those old fossil pirates,
Blackbeard, Captain Kidd and their kind."