"They're heading for a favorite ground. I didn't know they hunted sponges so far north, Joe. Key West seems to be the head center for the business."
"Get a few, but not many. Mostly fishing and turtling. Some look for coral on the bottom. Lots of ways to earn a living around the water in the gulf," replied the boy, in answer to Frank's inquiry.
"I should say there were. A man need never go hungry in this region if he knows enough to let strong drink alone," said Will.
"That's the trouble with Uncle Ben; he's drunk half the time. And when he is he wants to fight everybody. We all tried to keep away from him," observed Joe.
They were now out upon the gulf again. Will was a little dubious, remembering his bitter experience of the preceding day, but to his surprise and delight, he did not seem to feel the least bit sick. Perhaps the motion was entirely different, for they were now running almost directly into the light breeze.
Frank had turned the wheel over to Bluff, and was conning his charts, with Jerry bending over his shoulder.
"There's where we are right now. Looking along the shore, you can see where a key offers the same sort of refuge we enjoyed last night. In cruising along this coast, it's the only thing to do—run behind one of those islands each night. Only big boats anchor off shore. It's too dangerous for little craft, for a storm is liable to spring up during the night."
In this way Frank went on. They decided that since there seemed to be several possible havens ahead, they had better keep right on until the day waned, or they found themselves forced by a change in the weather to seek shelter.
Jerry had a line trailing astern, with a hook at the end, to which he had attached a bit of white rag. In less than ten minutes after he threw it out he pulled in a gamy fish that might have weighed a couple of pounds.
"A cavalli," said Joe; and they were glad indeed to have a native along who could post them on such things as might have puzzled them.