"One superstition isn't much worse than the other," said Bess, with a
laugh. "Now let's get settled. Oh, Cora, did you bring any
safety-pins? I meant to get a paper, but--"

"I have them," interrupted Belle. "I fancy we won't have much time
to sew buttons on--or room to do it, either," she added, as she
squeezed herself into a corner of the tiny stateroom.

Suitcases had been stowed away, the boys had gotten their possessions
into what they called "ship-shape" order, and the Tartar was soon
chugging her way over the blue waters of the bay.

The route was to be around the eastern end of the island, taking the
narrow channel between Porto Rico and Vieques, and thus into the
Caribbean. St. Croix was to be their first stop, though they did not
hope for much news from that Danish possession.

"Why don't you boys do some fishing?" asked Cora, as she and the
other girls came from their stateroom, where they had been putting
their things to rights. "We won't have much but canned stuff to eat,
if you don't," she went on, addressing Jack and Walter, who sat on
the open after deck, under an awning that shaded them from the hot
December sun.

"That's so, we might," assented Jack. "A nice tarpon now wouldn't go
bad."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Walter. "We haven't the outfit for tarpon
fishing. If we get some red snappers, we'll be doing well."