"I only hope they'll fool around in the vicinity until that schooner comes back and captures every one!" Joe said in anything rather than a friendly tone, after taking a deliberate survey of such portion of the ocean as could be seen from the tug; and then he added abruptly, as if determined to put all unpleasant thoughts far from his mind, "Now, what about getting on shore, Bob?"
"We must rig up some kind of a raft, I reckon, an' then stretch one of the heavin' lines so's she can be pulled back and forth without too much work."
"Jim, you and Harry overhaul the lines," Joe said as he began to undress; "and while Bob is building the raft I'll swim ashore."
"Don't do it!" the old sailor cried, warningly. "There are too many sharks around these keys to make swimmin' very safe sport!"
"We sha'n't be likely to find them in such shoal water. The boys can stay near the bow, and with all hands on the lookout I don't fancy there'll be much danger," Joe replied carelessly, as he knotted around his waist the line Jim brought.
Then without more ado he leaped overboard; and so shallow was the cove at this point that hardly a dozen strokes were necessary before his feet touched the bottom, and he waded ashore to where a mangrove grew near the edge of the bank.
Around this he fastened the rope, and then returned to the steamer, saying, as he stepped on board:
"The Sea Bird crawled pretty well up on the shoal before the anchor caught."
"Yes," Bob replied sadly; "she's got so much sand under her nose that I'm afraid she'll stay here, unless—which ain't at all likely—some steamer puts in. I was reckonin' on usin' timbers from the bulk-head for a raft; but seein's how there ain't much trouble in gettin' ashore it'll be best for the boys to make one out of tree-trunks while you keep to work on the engine."
"Are you countin' on livin' ashore?" Jim asked, anxiously.