They were delighted with the little cabin and spring that Bill showed them on Palm Island. The island itself was a small one of about ten acres and densely covered with palms. It was long and narrow. One of its snow-white beaches fronted on the Gulf of Mexico and the other on the bay. The cabin was in a good state of repair, and the spring gushed up clear and cold from under a clump of rock.
Their new friend soon took his departure giving them one last piece of advice before he went.
"Better leave one man in camp all the time," he said. "It needs one to do the cooking and keep nets mended up, and it's best not to take any chances. That Hunter gang may drop in on you any time."
As soon as he was gone, the little party fell to work fixing up their new home with which they were one and all delighted.
CHAPTER VI.
THE MIDNIGHT LIGHT.
"I wish we could get to fishing right off," Charley observed, "but I believe it will pay us best to get everything fixed up right first, then we will have nothing to bother us and we will be able to fish steadily without any interruptions."
"Issue your commands, boss, and they shall be carried out," Walter assured him.
"The cabin is the first thing to be attended to. There isn't much fixing required, as I can see, except to clean it up a little. But we need something for beds, bare planks make pretty hard sleeping. How do you suppose some clean dry sea moss would do for couches?"