“Well, then,” said the captain, who was beginning to see some sense in the proposition of the boys, “one difficulty is removed. Suppose you go forward and send that man you spoke of to me.” The captain had a long conversation with Adam, and convinced himself that that individual knew what he was talking about when he proposed his plan. The captain of the tug-boat was called in, and Adam’s trustworthiness seemed well established. After consultation with some of the other officers, it was decided to put the boys and Adam Guy ashore when a suitable place should be reached. The news created considerable excitement among the passengers, and great interest was taken in the proposed landing of the boys. The air in these semi-tropical waters was warm and balmy, and the sea was smooth. Everything seemed favorable for going on shore. About four o’clock in the afternoon the ship lay to about half a mile from a broad, sandy beach. This locality Adam declared he knew very well. The Indian River, he said, lay but a short distance back, behind a narrow forest of palmettos; and at the distance of a mile or two there was a house on the river bank, where shelter could be obtained until they could get transportation up the river. The captain, however, took care that the little party should not suffer in case they did not reach shelter as soon as they expected. He provided them with provisions suitable for two days, put up in four convenient packages. Each carried a canteen of fresh water, and Adam took charge of a large tarpaulin, rolled up into a compact bundle, which could be used as a protection in case of rain. The weather was so mild that their overcoats would be sufficient to keep them warm at night. While the men were preparing to lower a boat, Phil took Phœnix aside, and asked him what he meant by saying there was plenty of money. “Chap has only three dollars,” he said, “and I haven’t that much.” “I have fifty dollars,” said Phœnix, “and I guess that will take us along till we can telegraph for more.” “How did you come to have that much?” asked Phil, with surprise. “Why, you see, our folks haven’t settled what is to be done with some money I got for helping to run the ‘Thomas Wistar’ ashore, and father is taking care of it. But I made up my mind that I was going to keep hold of some of it myself. A fellow likes to feel that he has got something of his own that he can lay hands on, no matter what is done with the general pile. So I locked up fifty dollars in my room, and when we started off, I didn’t want to leave it behind, for I didn’t know but the house might burn down. So I put it in an old money-belt father used to wear, and it’s strapped around me now.” “You’re a gay old fellow!” said Chap, who had come up and heard this. “You are always turning up at the right time.” “And right side up,” said Phil.