But even this gloomy prospect could not long depress the spirits of our young friends. By the next morning they were going about cheerfully, hoping and believing that something would soon turn up by which they could speedily get back to their friends, or, at least, send news of their safety. The weather was now fine, although it was so cool that they were obliged to wear their overcoats whenever they were on deck, and they could not help enjoying this unexpected sea voyage. They did not see much of the tug-boat people. These men lived forward with the crew of the steamer, while the boys ate and slept with the passengers. On the morning of the third day of their steamer trip, they met one of the tug-boat crew,--a man named Adam Guy. This man had been the only person on board the tug-boat to whom the boys had taken any particular fancy. He had been a sailor, had visited many parts of the world, and had a great deal to tell of his various experiences on the sea and land. He was a strong and wiry, but not very large, man; and, like many sailors, he wore little gold rings in his ears. His hair was thin and sandy, and hung in short curls at the back of his head. He had a pleasant smile, and appeared to be an easy-going, good-tempered fellow. “Young men,” said Adam, “I’ve been a-wantin’ to see you and have a little talk with you. Do you know there’s no chance of our meetin’ any vessels, or of your bein’ sent home or gettin’ any word back, either?” “How is that?” asked the boy. “Why, it’s just this. We’re out of the way now of all craft bound north. I did think we might a’ met a coast steamer yesterday or the day before; but if we did, we passed them in the night, for I didn’t see any. We are now off the coast of Florida, and as we are sailin’ south, we keep pretty well in shore, so as to be out of the way of the Gulf Stream, which runs northward, you know; and, as you’ve lived on a big river, you understand what it is to sail agin a strong tide. But, of course, every vessel bound north tries to keep in the current of the Gulf Stream, so’s to be helped along. So, just about here, where the Gulf Stream is near our coast, you find all vessels, goin’ south, keepin’ pretty near shore, and them bound north, far out. It won’t be long before we’re near enough to the coast for you to see the trees. And we’ll run down till we git about opposite Jupiter light, and then we’ll sail across the stream and make straight for the Bahamas. I know all about these waters, for I’ve sailed in them often. Now, as for me, I don’t want to go to Nassau, and I don’t believe you want to, either. The captain of our tug and the rest of our men are all willin’ to go, and ship on this steamer for their home trip. They’ll be short o’ hands then, for some of the crew are to be discharged at Nassau, but I don’t want to go to that old English town. I’ve been there, and I’ve had enough of it.” “But what are we going to do?” asked Phil. “We can’t jump overboard and swim ashore.”