“Here, you kids, you aren’t earning your salt.  Just take my hook, Dick, and catch some crawfish.  I’ll help Molly do whatever she’s doing.”

On the way to the Irene Molly called out: 

“Oh, the beautiful, beautiful, bubble!”

“Don’t touch it,” shouted Dick.

But he was too late, for Molly had picked up a Portuguese man-o’-war and sat wringing her hands with the pain of its poison.  For, while nothing in nature is more exquisite, few things are more virulent than this animated, opalescent, iridescent bubble with its long, delicate, purplish tentacles.

Molly’s hand pained her all that day and the next, while Dick’s commiseration was boundless, but was kept in restraint by Ned, who frequently assured both of them that, although a surgical case, it was probably not quite hopeless.  A run of two hours in directions that varied, but averaged northwest, brought the Irene to Madeira Hammock, where the anchor was dropped.

CHAPTER XXVI

MADEIRA HAMMOCK AND—­THE END

[Illustration:  “THEY SAW A CROCODILE SWIMMING UNDER WATER NEAR THEM”]

Mr. Barstow wanted to explore Deer Key which was nearby and Ned took him there in the power boat.  The captain took Molly and Dick out in the skiff to show them a crocodile and Dick stood in the bow with the harpoon while Molly sat amidship and the captain poled.  Almost as they left the Irene they saw a crocodile swimming under water near them, but failed to get another sight of him.  They cruised vainly in open water, beside banks and in narrow channels.  Finally while going through a narrow creek a wave rolling high ahead of the skiff showed that some big creature was fleeing before them.  The next moment a four-foot weapon of a hand’s breadth, armed with a double row of teeth, was lifted for a second above the surface and was followed by the three fins, tandem, that proved the presence of a sawfish.  Dick fairly quivered with excitement as he held his harpoon at ready.

“Captain,” said he sharply, “will there be the least bit of danger to Miss Barstow if I strike that fish now?”

“There’ll be some, of course.  If he turns round and comes back at us in this narrow creek the only safe place will be in the bottom of the boat.”

“Dick Williams, don’t you stop for me.  I’m not a bit afraid.  If you don’t harpoon that sawfish and give me his saw, I won’t speak to you for a week,” said the excited girl.

“No use, Molly, I wouldn’t do it if it meant that you’d never speak to me.”

“If Miss Barstow will wait on the bank for half an hour you can bring her the saw, all right,” said the captain, who seemed anxious to oblige both of the passengers.

“Put me ashore quick, then.”

The girl was soon standing on the bank and the chase was renewed.  A hundred yards farther up the narrow stream the great sawfish was found swimming slowly across a bank where the water was shoal, with his two fins and tail showing in line above the water.  As the harpoon pole was lifted and Dick’s every muscle strained for the throw, the captain shouted: