"He came on Saturday night."
"He is a good-for-nothing vagabond!" exclaimed the pilot.
"He has had a hard time of it in Florida, according to his own account. If he does his duty, that is all I want of him," I added.
"Where did you pick him up?"
"He hailed Mr. Washburn in the street when I was with him, and we brought him off with us. He was in a starving condition, and Captain Boomsby, at whose house he used to have a room, refused to give him even a supper. I believe he has been in the snake business to some extent," I replied, indifferently.
I knew very well that Cornwood wished to know precisely what our relations were with Cobbington; but he was not so simple as to ask any questions about them. I could not prove that Captain Boomsby had placed the moccasin in the closet of the room where he had confined me, for my benefit, but I could prove that the explanation of the presence of the snake there was without any foundation in truth. Griffin Leeds had discovered by listening to the conversation of the mate and myself, that we were investigating the matter, and had a clue to Cobbington. Then Cornwood had sent a note to the saloon-keeper to this effect, and Captain Boomsby had bribed the invalid with a dollar to lie about the matter.
While I was reasonably certain in regard to such portions of the chain of the story as I had been compelled to supply, I could not prove all I believed. On the other hand, Cornwood was an exceedingly valuable person to me as guide and pilot, and I was unwilling to dispense with his services until he showed the cloven foot too palpably to be retained.
The Sylvania was approaching Orange Park, a place which Colonel Shepard desired to visit. A sign four hundred feet long, and fifteen feet high, the largest in the world, indicates the locality. It can be read a mile off, and the visitor "who runs may read." Cornwood ran the steamer alongside the long pier, and our passengers landed. Mr. Benedict, the enterprising Rhode Islander who owns the vast estate of nine thousand acres, was on the wharf to welcome them. The place had formerly been an immense sugar plantation; but the present owner had cut it up into small farms and town lots, and considerable progress had been made in peopling it with residents from the North.
The bluffs were thirty feet high on the river, and the highest elevation was seventy feet, about the highest on the St. Johns. Quite a number of dwelling-houses had been erected, including a hotel, and the place had a store, a school, and a hall for religious services. Several thousand orange-trees had been set out, and were in a thrifty condition. They set out stumps of sour orange-trees, three inches in diameter, and graft into them two shoots, a few inches above the ground. These had grown two or three feet in a single year, and in five or six years they would be in bearing condition. Young trees, five or six feet high, are also set out. If the orange grower is successful, the crop is exceedingly profitable.
Lots of from one to twenty acres were sold at from one to thirteen hundred dollars, as they were nearer or farther from the river. A house that would answer the purpose of a settler could be built for one hundred and thirty dollars, and a comfortable cottage for five hundred dollars.