They had made a good catch of food fishes and the boys now proceeded to get these ready for their first meal aboard, the girls agreeing to cook them, and to set the table.
The meal was rather a merry one, in spite of the grief that hung over the party—a grief occasioned by the fear of what might have befallen Mrs. Kimball, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Robinson.
And yet, with all their sorrow, there was that never-failing ray of hope. Without it, the days would have been dismal indeed.
Joe ran the boat while the others were eating, and presently he called into the dining compartment.
"Cape San Juan!" was his announcement.
"Have we sighted it?" asked Jack, referring to the north easternmost point of Porto Rico.
"Just ahead of us," replied Joe, who was a skillful navigator of the West Indian waters. "You said you were going to change the course there."
"Oh, yes. We'll round the cape and go south, I think," went on Jack. "A little more of that red snapper, Cora. Whoever cooked it knew how to do it," and he looked at Ben, while the others laughed.
"What's the joke?" Jack demanded, as he ate on, seemingly unperturbed, though his cut hand made it rather awkward to handle his knife and fork.
"Honor to whom honor is due," quoted Cora.