The moon had arisen while they slept and now shining brightly down clearly revealed the fearsome object stretched on the planks at Charley's feet. It was a man lying flat on his back, his arms outstretched, and his face upturned to the stars.

"Dead, murdered!" Charley cried, softly.

"Perhaps he is only drunk," suggested his chum in a tense whisper.

But Charley silently pointed to a gaping hole in the man's forehead and the dark pool on the wharf at his head.

The captain, stooping, felt of the man's wrist, raised his arm and let it drop. "Yes, he is cold, dead, and stiff," he whispered. "Let us get away from here. We can do him no good."

In a few minutes, the four were huddled in the "Dixie's" cabin, talking over the tragedy with bated breath. They were not strangers to the sight of death. In the course of the adventurous lives they had lived, they had often seen the coming of the gristly monster, but the suddenness of this sight had upset their nerves already overtaxed by the events of the previous day and the night, and it was long before they could compose themselves to sleep.

Just as Walter was dropping off into dreamland, Charley nudged him with his elbow. "I've got it," he whispered, softly.

"What?" inquired Walter, drowsily.

"A plan to avoid trouble with the fishermen and keep Chris from all harm."

"Let's hear it," demanded his chum, rousing up a little.

"Wait until morning. I haven't thought out all the details yet. Get to sleep if you can. We'll need all the rest we can get for to-morrow is going to be a busy day."

It seemed to the weary little party that they had hardly closed their eyes when they were awakened by the sun shining in the cabin windows.

Hastily dressing, they got aboard the skiff and made for the dock.

There was a crowd gathered in front of the shacks and they clambered up on the wharf unobserved.

Beside the fishermen, Mr. Daniels was standing in the group and with him was a stocky, determined-looking man, wearing a revolver, whom the boys took to be a sheriff.

"Good morning, friends," called Mr. Daniels when he caught sight of the little party. "Come here. Perhaps you can tell us something about last night's affair. These fellows here seem to know nothing about it."

Briefly, Captain Westfield told the little they knew of the trouble.

"That don't help us much," observed the sheriff, when he had concluded. "As long as these fishermen will not talk it is going to be hard to locate the murderer. The man who was killed was a pretty bad egg, although that does not excuse the murderer. I wish I could find out where that whiskey comes from. It is that which causes all the trouble."

It was on Walter's tongue to tell Mr. Daniels of their own troubles but he remembered the fish boss's declaration that they must fight their own battles and he checked himself.

The sheriff soon left, taking with him as suspects a couple of fishermen who were known to have quarreled with the dead man the day before. Before he left, however, he addressed the assembled fishermen.

"Now," he said, firmly, "these affairs among you have got to stop and stop right now. Most of you men are not bad at heart. It's the liquor makes you crazy and ready to follow the lead of the reckless ones. I don't know where you get the booze but I am going to find out and the guilty ones are going to suffer. I'll give you a chance to come square with it. I'll give a reward of five hundred dollars to the man who puts me next to this booze business, and promise him that he will not be punished unless he is one of the main offenders. You know where I live. I am ready to talk any time to the man who will come to me and help me put an end to the accursed business."

None of the fishermen spoke but it was evident that the mention of the large reward was not without some effect. Some faces showed eager cupidity while others betrayed great uneasiness.

"That reward offer is a bomb in their midst," whispered the observant Charley to his chum. "Some of those fellows will squeal to the sheriff unless they are too afraid of what the rest would do to them. I guess those that look so uneasy are the guilty ones, they have cause to be scared. Five hundred dollars is a big temptation for some one to turn state's evidence. But come, we have no time to stand around. We have got lots to do to-day. Chris, will you see if you can rustle us up a little breakfast?"

"Now for our own troubles," he continued as soon as the little negro was out of hearing. "We all know now that we can not stay here. If those fellows will kill one of their own comrades, they certainly would not hesitate to do the same to Chris or one of us if they got a good chance. So we must get away from here at once. As soon as we eat breakfast, let's get all our things on the 'Dixie' and pull out. I've a sort of plan in my head for a new home but first I want to go over to the Roberts camp and have a little talk with them. There are several things I want to find out. Before we go, though, I want to say a few words to these fishermen."

The fishermen were still standing as the sheriff had left them, talking excitedly together and Charley approached the group. "Men," he said in a clear, manly voice, "please give me your attention for a moment." A surprised silence fell upon the group, and the lad was quick to take advantage of it.

"We only landed in this place yesterday. We came here broke, seeking a chance only to work and earn. Mr. Daniels was kind enough to give us that chance. We have started in strangers to all of you and with no malice or ill feeling towards any of you. Last night we received a note signed the White Caps stating that we must get rid of our little colored cook or suffer serious consequences. Now suppose, men, that you had a friend who for years had been faithful, loyal and true to you. Suppose that he had again and again risked his life for you. Would you turn him down at some one else's demand, even if his skin was black? Could you do it and retain an atom of your own self respect? No, you could not. Nor can we. That little darkey has been all of those things to us for many years and we can not and will not turn him adrift. You, or some of you, object to his presence on this dock. Very well, we will leave the dock. He will not bother you even with his presence. All we ask is that if you come across him elsewhere at any time that you do him no harm. We appeal to your sense of fair play. We do not believe any American lacks that sense. We ask this not through fear but because it is right and just."

A murmur ran through the group of fishermen when the lad concluded and turning around walked back to his friends. He had little hopes that his words had done any good but the chance had seemed worth the attempt.

Chris soon called them to breakfast and as soon as it was finished, the boys brought the "Dixie" alongside and stored their belongings in her cabin.

After a few attempts Charley succeeded in starting, the engine and with the captain at the wheel and their skiffs in tow behind, they swung away from the dock and headed across the bay for a little island on which stood the Roberts camp. As they approached the place, they were delighted with the looks of the little camp. They landed at a neat little wharf, on either side of which were neat, well-built net racks upon which were neatly hung well-mended nets. The skiffs hauled upon the shore were well-painted and in excellent shape. A trim little path bordered with sea shells led up up to a neat, cozy, white-painted cottage nestling in amongst a group of cocoanut palms.

"These Roberts are tidy as sailors," observed Captain Westfield. "We can bank on their being pretty near all right. I never saw a clean, tidy man that was a bad man."

As Charley had expected, they found the Roberts at home taking a needed day's rest after their hard work.

They greeted the little party cordially. "Glad to see you," said Bill Roberts, heartily. "Hope that you will drop in on us often now that you have found the way."

"We have come to bother you already," Charley said. "I thought perhaps you could tell us if there would be any objection to our making a camp on one of these islands."

"What, tired of life on the dock already?" grinned Bill.

Charley briefly related their experiences with the fishermen. Bill and his brothers, Frank and Robert, were indignant. "It's some of that Hunter gang's doings," Bill declared. "Most of the fishermen are not such bad fellows but they are afraid to oppose the gang for fear of what might be done to them on the sly. You have done just right to leave there, now, you won't be mixed up in any of their troubles. Sure you can make camp on any of these islands. They are owned by the state and no one has got any right to object. You could build a shack right here on our island but I've got a better idea than that. You see that island right over there opposite the Clearwater dock? That's Palm Island. There is a pretty fair abandoned house on it which with only a little fixing up would do you first rate. There's a good spring of cold water on it too. I'll take a run over there with you and show you where the spring is."

The little party gratefully accepted his offer. Just as they were shoving off from the dock, the younger brother came running down with a rifle in his hands. "Better take this," he offered. "We have got an extra one and it may come handy to you. You can return it later on if you find you have no use for it."

Our friends thanked him for his kindness. A weapon was what they had been longing for since their acquaintance with the fishermen. They hoped to never have occasion to use one, but its possession gave them a sense of security.

They were delighted with the little cabin and spring that Bill showed them on Palm Island. The island itself was a small one of about ten acres and densely covered with palms. It was long and narrow. One of its snow-white beaches fronted on the Gulf of Mexico and the other on the bay. The cabin was in a good state of repair, and the spring gushed up clear and cold from under a clump of rock.

Their new friend soon took his departure giving them one last piece of advice before he went.

"Better leave one man in camp all the time," he said. "It needs one to do the cooking and keep nets mended up, and it's best not to take any chances. That Hunter gang may drop in on you any time."

As soon as he was gone, the little party fell to work fixing up their new home with which they were one and all delighted.