CHAPTER VIII

A MISFORTUNE

Jerry started the engine, and, at slow speed, put the boat close over to the big creature, which was now quite dead.

“I hadn’t any idea they were so large,” said Ned.

“As I told you before, they sometimes weigh nearly a thousand pounds,” the professor said. “They are harmless, but I suppose this one must be an old one, and a sort of king of this section of the river. Very likely he didn’t like our boat to disturb his feeding ground. By the way, Bob, I think he’s a friend of yours.”

“A friend of mine?”

“Yes, that one, or one just like it, tried to bite your foot last night.”

“Was that what had hold of my foot?”

“That was the creature,” replied the scientist. “I was pretty sure of it before, but I didn’t want to say so until I had some proof. I had no idea there were any in this river, and I fancy we shall see no more. Well, boys, you had quite an experience. Many hunters would give a good deal for the chance of killing a manatee, though I don’t see much sport in it myself.”

“What are they good for?” asked Jerry.

“Various purposes. I suppose some years ago the Seminole Indians were very glad to eat them. But I don’t believe we’ll take it along with us. It would be too much trouble. If it was alive a museum might pay a good price for it. But, Bob, I hope you’re not in danger of taking cold from your bath.”

“Not in the least,” replied Chunky with a laugh. “It’s so warm in the water that I’d like to stay in all day.”

They helped him wring out his clothes and they were hung up to dry, while he donned some spare garments.

“Now for Titusville!” cried Jerry, as he speeded up the motor.

They reached the city about noon, and as they wanted to get the boat ready for another overland journey they decided to have dinner on board before going ashore to make their arrangements.

When they got to the freight office they found that the cradle, in which the _Dartaway_ was to be shipped, had arrived. They engaged men to get the boat from the water, and, having seen it safely put on a flat car for shipment, they bought their tickets for Kissimmee City, where they were again to begin water travel.

Though the railway journey was interesting, and gave the boys glimpses of persons and scenery they were unfamiliar with, they were anxious for it to be over so they might again feel the throb of the _Dartaway’s_ engine.

Owing to a wreck on the road they missed connections and they had to lay over one night at a small village. The next day travel was slow, and they did not reach Kissimmee City until nightfall.

“I hope our boat’s here,” said Jerry as he got off the train. “These railroads don’t have enough travel to make them as fast as those in the north.”

“Maybe it was in the freight wreck that delayed us,” suggested Bob.

“There you go, Old Calamity Howler!” exclaimed Ned. “What do you want to go suggesting any such thing as that for?”

“I didn’t mean anything,” responded Bob, rather surprised at Ned’s explosion.

“I was just thinking the same thing myself,” Ned went, “and I didn’t want my bad presentment to be seconded.”

“You fellows are talking nonsense,” spoke Jerry. “Come on until we find a hotel. Then I’ll inquire about the boat. But where is the professor?”

“He was here a moment ago,” replied Ned.

“There he is,” said Bob, pointing to the figure of the scientist. Mr. Snodgrass was on his hands and knees on the depot platform, while near him, in the glare of a lamp, stood a small crowd.

“Is he hurt?” asked Bob, in some alarm.

“More likely he’s trying to catch a new specimen of a hop-toad,” was Jerry’s idea.

As the boys approached the professor they saw he had in his hand a small net with which he was endeavoring to capture something.

“Did yo’ lose anything, stranger?” asked a tall langy southerner, as he observed the professor. “If yo’ did, say the word and we’ll all jine in an’ help yo’ look for it, suah!”

“Thank you,” replied the scientist, not looking up from his occupation. “I just saw a very rare specimen of a red flea, and I want to catch it for my collection.”

“A flea!” exclaimed the southerner, while the others in the crowd looked as though they thought the professor had gone crazy.

“Yes, a beautiful red flea, and very rare.”

“Excuse me, stranger,” went on the man who had first spoken, “no offense, yo’ understand, but if yo’ want about seven million of them fleas I reckon we can accommodate yo’. I’ve got a dog that’d give a good bit to git rid of ’em, an’ I reckon as how some others I know can supply yo’. Take ’em all, an’ welcome, but don’t turn ’em loose again in Kissimmee City.”

“Thank you,” replied the scientist, as though some one had presented him with a large sum of money. “I only require one or two. The kind I seek is not as common as you think. There! I have him,” and he made a sudden movement with the tiny net, imprisoning the hopping red captive.

“All kinds of fleas is too common around heah,” observed the tall man.

“That’s right,” chorused his companions.

But the professor was intent only on his captive. He carefully placed it in a bottle and then turned to look for the boys. He had been oblivious to everything, save the red flea, since he had first seen the creature.

The travelers found a hotel and, after arranging for their rooms, the three boys decided to visit the freight station and inquire about the _Dartaway_.

They found the office deserted, and, after tramping about the platform, and calling out in vain for some one of whom they might make inquiries, they saw, approaching, a little colored boy.

“Wuz yo’ uns a-lookin’ fer any one?” he asked.

“Where’s the freight agent?” asked Jerry.

“Oh, he’s over to Buck Johnson’s.”

“Where’s Johnson’s?”

“Down the road, about two hoots an’ a holler.”

“How far is that?” asked Ned, to whom this description of distance was new.

“I doan’t rightly know, but ef yo’ go twice as fur as yo’ kin hoot, an’ then as fur as yo’ kin holler, yo’ll find him, but I don’t guess he’ll come.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause he’s at a dorg fight, an’ he hates t’ come away from a dorg fight.”

“Can you tell him we’d like to see him about our boat?” inquired Jerry, holding up a shining quarter.

“Mister, I’d go fo’ miles fer two bits,” replied the little darky, calling the twenty-five cent piece by its southern name. He seized the money as though he feared it would vanish, and started off on a run.

Whether “two hoots and a holler” was only a short distance, or whether the freight agent hurried away from the dog fight because of the small negro’s description of the three travelers who were so lavish with “two-bit pieces” was not disclosed. At any rate a man was soon seen slouching down the platform.

“Was yo’-uns lookin’ fer me?” he asked.

“Are you the freight agent?” inquired Jerry.

“That’s what I be. I’m here nights, but Jim Peterson is here day times. We don’t do much business nights, an’ I jest took an hour or so off--er--fer amusement,” he added. “We was havin’ a sort of athletic contest. What kin I do fer yo’? Was yo’ expectin’ some freight?”

Jerry smiled at the man’s idea of an athletic contest in conjunction with a dog fight, and answered:

“We’re expecting a motor boat, shipped from Titusville.”

“A motor boat?”

“It’s called the _Dartaway_,” added Ned, to help the agent’s memory.

“A boat, eh?” and he seemed provokingly slow. “Well, now, I’m terrible sorry to disappoint yo’ gentlemen.”

“Hasn’t it come?” asked Bob.

“No, an’ guess it won’t,” said the agent in drawling tones. “I got word last night that some boat that was comin’ heah was all busted to pieces in a freight wreck!”

“The _Dartaway_ smashed!” exclaimed Jerry, and the hearts of all the lads sank at the news of such a misfortune.