“Hold on!” cried Jerry. “What are those things? They may be poison.”
“They’re mangoes,” answered Bob, eating his second one.
“Are you sure?” and Jerry looked doubtful.
“Of course,” answered the always-hungry youth. “I’ve read about them and I know.”
“Better leave ’em alone,” advised Jerry. “They may be the mango fruit, but I wouldn’t take any chances. Besides, if they are mangoes, this variety, from having grown in the everglades, may be poisonous.”
“They don’t taste so,” remarked Bob, continuing to eat the fruit, which smelled delicious and had a fine appearance. “Better have some, Ned.”
“No, thanks. Camp stuff is good enough for me when I’m not sure of what the other is.”
Bob continued to enjoy himself on the fruit, which certainly was tempting. He only laughed at the warnings of his companions, and filled his pockets with the yellow things, a number of which he took back to camp.
In accordance with the plan of the previous night, the boys maintained a watch. The fish-line alarm was set again, and with a lantern burning down near the boat, where it would disclose any persons who might try to sneak up and cut the mooring lines, Ned and Jerry prepared to turn in. It was Bob’s turn to stand first watch. The boys had not lost their uneasy feeling concerning the professor, and they hoped every moment to hear his cheery hail as he returned.
“Don’t you wish you’d brought some of the mangoes?” asked Bob of his chums, producing some of the yellow fruit as he prepared to begin his tour of duty. “This will keep me awake.”
“Call us at the slightest sign of danger,” cautioned Jerry, as he went inside the tent.
It seemed that he and Ned had been sleeping but a short time when they were suddenly aroused by Bob shaking them.
“What is it? The negroes again?” asked Jerry as he sat up and grabbed his gun.
“No,” replied Bob in a faint voice. “Oh, Jerry, I’m awful sick! I guess it was those mangoes. I can hardly stand! Can’t you do something for me?”
Jerry was up in an instant and soon lit a lantern. By the glimmer of it he saw that Bob was indeed a very sick youth. The lad’s face was flushed, his hands were cold and clammy and his face and head were hot with a burning fever. His eyes had an unnaturally bright look, his breath came fast, and in short gasps.