CHAPTER I.
AN ECCENTRIC COUPLE

One fine October afternoon, in the year 1880, a sailboat might have been seen gliding serenely over the waters of Lake Okechobee, in the southern part of Florida.

The boat had but two occupants, and these were so different in appearance that a little description of them will not be out of order.

The elder of the two was attired in a very loose-fitting suit of blue flannel, and wore a Panama hat.

He was probably fifty years of age, and one look at his round, smooth-shaven face would have told the casual observer that he was a good-hearted individual.

His eyes were hidden by a pair of blue goggles of extraordinary proportions, which made the man look as though he had donned a diver’s helmet.

In stature this remarkable personage was short and very stout.

Prof. Remington Easy was his name, and now, as he has been introduced, we will turn our attention to his companion – a tall, lanky individual, attired in corduroy knee breeches, heavy top-boots, red flannel shirt, linen coat and a broad-brimmed hat – a typical Yankee, for all the world.

This was Martin Haypole, the professor’s right-hand man.

The Yankee was not over thirty years of age, and had it not been for the thin bunch of yellow hair he wore on his chin, he would have been a fair-looking man.

Martin was about six feet two inches in height, and weighed probably one hundred and thirty-five pounds; thus it will be seen that he possessed not an ounce of superfluous flesh.

He had often remarked that what he lacked the professor amply made up for, and vice versa.

But what are these two curious individuals doing in this wild part of Florida? the reader may ask.

The question is answered in a very few words.

Prof. Remington Easy was of an exploring turn of mind.

About a month before the opening of our story he became deeply interested in that vast, unexplored region in the southern part of Florida known as the Everglades.

The more he studied over the matter the more he became desirous of penetrating the heart of the swamp and discovering something wonderful.

The professor possessed an unlimited supply of cash, and he spared no expense in fitting himself out for his trip.

Thus we now find them in their boat upon the lower part of Lake Okechobee, within about five miles of the beginning of the Everglades.

The sun was yet about three hours high, and the professor hoped to reach a good place to land before the shades of night gathered around them.

It was now the second day since they had entered the upper portion of the lake, by way of the stream beyond it, and the professor judged that the marshes must be close at hand.

Owing to the fact that their boat did not possess one of those useful things known as a centerboard, and that the winds had been contrary ever since they entered Lake Okechobee, they had made but a scant twenty miles in nearly two days.

While Prof. Easy was satisfied with this slow mode of progress, Martin Haypole was not.

The boat, which was christened Maid of the Marsh, appeared to be a very insignificant thing in the eyes of the Yankee.

He had laughed at it, swore at it and nearly cried over it.

And now, just as Prof. Easy made a prodigious effort and rose to his feet, he began again.

“I tell you, professor, this is the dod-rottedest boat that ever sot in water. Them trees there to the south’ard are ther Everglades; but d’yer think we’ll ever git thar at this rate? Mought better started in a rowboat. Maid of ther Marsh! A cussed fine name, ain’t it? I hope she gits stuck in some marsh afore long, an’ never gits out again. But I’m ’fraid we’ll both be gray-headed afore she gits to a marsh. Twenty miles in two days! Well, I swan ter Guinea! If that ain’t travelin’ in ther nineteenth century, I’m a downright fule!”

“Tut, tut, Martin,” replied the professor; “take things easy. I took notice that you were very glad to get in the boat day before yesterday, when that big alligator gave chase after you.”

“Oh! she were good enough then, professor. I don’t want a ’gator nosin’ aroun’ me; an’ this tub is good enough when that kind of work is goin’ on. But when you come right down ter sailin’, whar in blazes does this dod-rotted thing come in?”

“Have patience, Martin. We will reach those trees yonder in less than an hour. See! a favorable breeze is even now springing up.”

The professor was right. For the first time during their voyage upon the lake the wind was blowing in a direction suited to their course.

The hitherto flapping mainsail now bellied out, and the little craft went skipping through the water like a thing of life.

Even Martin Haypole was temporarily satisfied, and with his hand upon the tiller he watched the rapidly nearing forest in the swamp district.

The breeze kept up, and, sure enough, in a little while they arrived at the end of the lake proper.

As soon as they got among the trees, the breeze ceased to exist, and once more the sail flapped idly about the mast.

“I’ll be gosh-dinged if we won’t eat supper on land to-night, anyhow!” exclaimed the Yankee, as he pushed the boat, by means of a long pole, into a narrow creek, and made for a little island that was several feet above the level of the marsh.

“Good enough, Martin – good enough!” returned his companion, rubbing his hands. “I am agreeable, I assure you.”

At that moment the prow of the boat struck the bank and caused the fat professor to lose his balance and tumble overboard.

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the Yankee, as he observed his employer floundering about in the muddy water. “How d’ye like it, professor? You laughed at me when I fell overboard – now it is your turn, by gosh! I told you laughin’ was catchin’. Now, if one of them ugly ’gators was ter come along there would be fun. Thunder and lightnin’! if there ain’t one, now, I’m a rank sinner!”

A floundering was heard a few feet from the struggling professor, and a half-grown alligator was seen making for him with all his might.

The luckless man had now assumed an upright position, with the dirty, black water even with his chin, and as he observed his peril he bellowed lustily for help.

He strove in vain to reach the gunwale of the boat, but the distance was too far for his short arms.

Haypole, with an amused smile upon his face, allowed the alligator to get within a few feet of his intended prey, and then reached over suddenly and seized his employer by the arms.

He then saw that he would not be able to get him out as quickly as he had anticipated, and his gleeful look turned to one of alarm.

The professor was a heavyweight of the first water, and had it not been for the fact that Haypole was a very strong man, the ferocious alligator would certainly have had a good supper that night.

But by an almost superhuman effort he jerked him from the muddy water just as the ferocious monster made a vicious snap with its huge jaws.

“Murder!” yelled the professor, as he fell in a heap at the feet of the Yankee; “the thing has bitten off my foot!”

“I guess not, professor; he only nipped off ther heel of yer shoe. Great haystacks! but that was a narrar escape, though! I didn’t know you was so ’tarnal heavy.”

As soon as the half-drowned man found that he was not injured, he got mad, and shaking his fist under Haypole’s nose, said:

“Martin, if you ever let such a thing as that occur again, I’ll discharge you on the spot!”

“Now, don’t git mad, old man; you won’t discharge me, you know you won’t. Why, thunderation! You couldn’t git along without me.”

“It makes no difference; the whole thing was your fault. If you had not made such an ass of yourself by pushing the boat so hard against the bank, I would not have fallen overboard at all. Then the idea of your standing here laughing at me when the alligator was coming after me with all his might. You think you are very funny, Martin Haypole; and I’ll tell you what I have a great notion of doing.”

“What?” asked the Yankee, showing just a slight tinge of passion.

“I have a great mind of thrashing you.”

“You had better not try it, professor. I never seen that man yet as could do that in a square rough and tumble.”

Whack!

The enraged professor struck his employee a smart blow on the face with his open hand.

“Thunder and lightning!” howled the Yankee; “I can’t stand that, even if you do be my boss.”

He made a sudden dive forward and seized Prof. Remington Easy by the collar, and prepared to stand him on his head.

But the fat man was still mad, and he ducked down and seized his opponent by his long legs.

Then each strove to force the other to the bottom of the boat.

“Drat your tarnal hide! I’ll wallop you, anyhow, now,” exclaimed Haypole.

He let out his full strength, and down went the fat professor, with him on top.

But as they struck the boat gave a lurch, and overboard went both of them.

And the alligator, who was still hovering about the place, opened wide his jaws and swam toward the two struggling forms, who were each striving to see who could shout “Murder!” the loudest.

CHAPTER II.
AN ACCEPTED PROPOSITION

“Dick this is a pretty wild spot, isn’t it?”

“Well, I should say so, Leo; and not only wild, but dangerous, as well.”

“Dangerous? Why, you are not afraid of the ’gators, are you?”

“Not exactly; but then there are other things besides alligators to look out for in this region.”

The two speakers were young men, eighteen or nineteen years of age.

They were seated upon the trunk of a fallen tree, on a small island, situated at the lower end of Lake Okechobee, Florida.

A few feet from them a negro lad was busily engaged in cooking a haunch of meat over a brightly burning fire.

The first speaker was Leo Malvern, the son of a wealthy St. Augustine merchant, and his companion was his cousin, Dick Vincey, of New York City.

Dick had come to the South to spend the fall and winter with his relatives, and his cousin had proposed that the two should make a trip as far as the Everglades.

Both liked adventure, and the idea of penetrating into that unexplored region pleased them to a great extent.

They procured all necessary supplies needful for such an undertaking, and set out for their destination, after traveling as far as they could by rail.

The young negro who was engaged in preparing their evening meal – for it was near sunset – was a comical-looking personage, to say the least.

He was not as black as some of his race, but the spread of his nose and mouth, and the habitual grin on his face gave him a decidedly humorous appearance.

He had lived at the home of Leo Malvern’s folks since his earliest infancy, and was a faithful servant.

This interesting young coon, who is to figure as one of the characters in our story, was known as Lucky.

He never knew any other name, and, consequently, was satisfied.

Like the majority of his people, he loved a banjo, and had brought one along on the trip for the amusement of himself and his two young masters, as he chose to call the boys.

“Is supper ready?” asked Dick, as he noticed that the darky was looking at them.

“Yes, sah; it am all done. Ready for ter dive in, you bet,” was the reply, accompanied by a broad grin.

“All right,” said Leo Malvern; “we may as well eat, then.”

The two boys now made their way to the white cloth spread upon the ground, and prepared to do justice to the tempting meal before them.

The odor of coffee and roasted possum made them hungry, although their appetites were not lacking, by any means.

But just as they were about to attack the tempting morsels, the sounds of an angry discussion were heard in the near vicinity.

Leo and Dick sprang to their feet at a bound and seized their rifles.

Their canoe was but a few feet distant, and it was but the work of a minute to spring into it and push off in the direction the sounds came from.

Up to this moment they had judged they were the only human beings in this out-of-the-way place.

But now it seemed that they were not. The voices were those of two men in a dispute, and the boys determined to catch a glimpse of their owners.

Dick paddled with all his might, while Leo held his rifle ready for instant use, in case those they heard might be enemies.

Rounding a bend, they suddenly came in sight of a small sailboat and two struggling men.

It was the Maid of the Marsh, and the two men were Prof. Remington Easy and the Yankee.

While the canoe containing the boys was yet a hundred feet away from the boat, the two men suddenly fell overboard.

Then it was that they first observed the alligator making for them.

As the professor and Martin Haypole arose to the surface and began shouting lustily for help, Leo raised his rifle to his shoulder.

Crack!

As the report rang out the hungry alligator ceased his forward progress and began floundering about in the muddy water.

The bullet had pierced his right eye, and in less than half a minute it expired.

Meanwhile the Yankee succeeded in grasping the gunwale of the Maid of the Marsh, and at length drew himself safely on board.

Then he hastily lifted his employer from the water, after which he gazed pantingly in the direction of the approaching canoe.

“Much obliged to yer, boys,” said he, addressing our two young friends. “Whichever of ye it was that plugged that ugly critter are a good shot, swan if he ain’t!”

Leo and Dick at once perceived that the men were not likely to prove enemies, so they lost no time in urging their canoe to the side of the sailboat.

“Glad to meet you, young gentlemen!” exclaimed the professor, rubbing his hands. “I thought us two were the only ones in this wild place. I am glad that such is not the case, though, I assure you. For had it not been for you, both Haypole and myself would surely have been devoured by that ferocious monster. All on account of his pig-headedness, too.”

“Now, see here, professor,” put in the Yankee, “I ain’t a-goin’ ter quarrel with you ag’in under no consideration. This oughter be a lesson for us both. Why, I swan ter Guinea! that little foolishness nearly cost us both our nat’ral lives! Come aboard, boys; I’ve got some fine, old Medford rum here, an’ gosh! if I don’t stand treat.”

The smell of the blood from the dead alligator was drawing others to the spot, and both Leo and Dick deemed it advisable to board the boat.

They at once clambered over the gunwale of the Maid of the Marsh, and then, tying their canoe to the stern, questioned the professor and Haypole as to where they had come from, and what they were doing there.

In a very matter-of-fact way Prof. Easy related his whole story, word for word, and in conclusion said:

“Now, then, young gentlemen, tell us how we came to find you in this dangerous and unhealthy place.”

It did not take Dick Vincey long to do this, and when he had finished all four seemed glad that the meeting had taken place.

“Leo Malvern and Dick Vincey, eh?” said Prof. Easy. “Well, I’ll tell you both bluntly that I like you. I am now going to make a proposition to you, which you can accept or decline as you see fit.”

“What is it?” asked Leo.

“I would like to have you accompany me on my exploring trip. You are both made of the right sort of material for such an undertaking; and, if my theory proves correct, you will assist me in making one of the greatest discoveries the world has ever known.”

“Before we give you an answer I would suggest that you move your boat over to our island, just beyond the bend. We have a darky there who has supper waiting for us, and we are both hungry. Besides, we have a fire burning there, and it is getting dark. I think it will be pleasanter for all hands,” observed Leo.

“A good idee,” said Haypole. “Here, boys, is ther Medford rum I spoke about; have some?”

His offer was declined, greatly to his astonishment.

“Great haystacks!” he exclaimed, swallowing a big mouthful of the liquor; “this stuff won’t hurt ye any more’n apple cider.”

The longer Leo and Dick remained in the company of the two men, the better they liked them.

There was something about Prof. Easy that was bound to make him friends wherever he went, and Martin Haypole – well, he was one of those comical, unsophisticated people whom almost everybody likes.

Dick grasped a pole and assisted to shove the boat out into the stream, and thence to the little island, where Lucky, the darky, was anxiously awaiting the return of the two boys.

When he saw the sailboat approaching through the gathering darkness, he uttered a cry of alarm and hastily seized his rifle, which stood against a tree.

“Hold on, Lucky! it is all right,” shouted Leo.

“Fo’ de Lor’ sakes! Whar did youse done git de boat, Massa Leo?” asked the darky.

“We found her out here with two men in her,” returned Dick, as the prow of the craft struck the little island.

A line was thrown out, which Lucky quickly tied to a tree, and then the four sprang out upon the ground.

The darky still had the possum and coffee warm, and, as there was enough to go around, all hands did ample justice to the meal.

When supper was finished, Leo and Dick thought over the professor’s proposition, and, after a while, concluded to accept it.

The five sat about the fire for a long while, chatting over the matter, and finally, when they began to get drowsy, Leo suggested that they should turn in upon the bottom of the boat, leaving one man on guard for the first part of the night, and when his time was up, to make a change.

“I think it advisable to do this,” said he, “for we can’t tell what might happen while we slept.”

“A good idea,” promptly returned the professor. “Martin will take the first watch.”

“I will, sartin,” said the Yankee.

“And I’ll take second,” put in Dick. “To-morrow night some one else can have a show.”

This seemed to be satisfactory, so all turned in save Haypole, who, rifle in hand, sat down upon the ground near the boat, with his back to a tree.

He kept the fire burning brightly to keep prowling animals away, and listened to the regular breathing of his companions, who were soon fast asleep.

The hours flitted by.

Martin Haypole’s time was nearly up, and he was still seated in the position he had taken on commencing his watch.

Up to this time he had remained wide awake, but now he began dozing.

Suddenly he was brought to his full senses by hearing the crackling of a twig at his elbow.

The Yankee glanced hastily up, and was surprised to see the figure of a man within two feet of him.

Before he could make a move the stranger seized the rifle from his hands, and bounded from the spot with the speed of an antelope.

“Hey!” exclaimed Haypole, springing to his feet and firing his revolver at the retreating form. “Who in thunderation be you, anyhow?”

But a splash told him that the man had taken to the water.