No dramas were to be made until they reached a certain
wild and uninhabited part of Florida, of which Mr. Pertell had heard, and
which he thought would be just right for his purpose.
They had left the vicinity of the alligator hunt, and were pushing on
into the interior. In reality it was not so many miles from Sycamore, but
it seemed a great way, so lonely was it in the palm forests and cypress
swamps.
"Seems to me this is lonely enough to suit anyone," observed Miss
Pennington as she sat on deck with the others, and looked up stream.
"It surely is--I feel like screaming just to know that there is something
alive around here," added Miss Dixon.
"Go ahead!" laughed Russ. "No one will stop you!"
"Really the silence does seem to get on one's nerves," put in Mr. Towne.
"It--er--interferes with--er--thinking, you know."
"Didn't know you ever indulged in that habit!" chaffed Paul.
"Oh, why--er--my deah fellah! Of course I do--at times. I find--I really
find I have to give a great deal of consideration--at times--to the suit
samples my tailor sends me. And really I shall not be sorry to get back
to deah old N'York and renew my wardrobe."
"If he has any more suits he'll have to get a man to look after them,"
remarked Alice.
"Oh, hush!" chided Ruth.
Then silence once more settled down over the company on the upper deck of
the _Magnolia_.
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