Boy Scouts in Southern Waters; Or, Spaniard's Treasure Chest
G. Harvey Ralphson
Paperback
(CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, March 28, 2014)
"Wow! Look at that one! That's a monster!" "That must be the ninth wave." "What do you mean by the ninth wave, Jack?" "Why, Arnold, don't you know that every third wave is bigger than the two preceding it and that every ninth wave is bigger than the preceding eight?" queried Jack Stanley. "No, can't say that I ever knew that," replied Arnold Poysor leaning out of the pilot house of a sturdy motor boat plowing her way through the waters of that part of the Gulf of Mexico known as Mississippi Sound. "But I do know," he continued, "that if the Fortuna takes many more green ones over her bow, we'll have to get something other than oilskins to keep us dry!" "Gee, I wish this fog would lift and let us find out where we are!" put in a third member of the part. "This is fierce!" "It's thicker than the mush we used to get in that South Water Street restaurant when we were fitting out in Chicago!" declared the first speaker. "That was a bum place to eat!" "Never mind the eats!" replied the one addressed as "Jack." "Just you keep that Klaxon going. You know we're on government waters here and the pilot rules require us to keep a fog signal sounding once every minute.