Paddling under Palmettos — page 124: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Paddling Under Palmettos. 117 Archie’s feet were wet, for he had on canvas shoes, but the oilskins had protected him otherwise. The wind still blew very strong, but it was now from the northwest. Losing no time Archie cracked on every inch of his cruising sail, raised his anchor, and then went _ whirling down the sound before a piping breeze. Where was the Bet? Not in sight, that was sure. Dick had evidently hauled in somewhere to wait for his companion. As Archie reached the mouth of the big bayou he saw the Bet at anchor behind the point and shouted to his friend, who immediately started to join him; but the treacherous wind began to die out and finally whipped around to the old quarter, southeast. How aggravating! By half-past ten they had made three miles and reached a small house on the west shore of the river, the property of a Chicago man, who allowed them a small quantity of water of very poor quality—from a barrel-spring—for emergencies, in case they did not get to Eden. He was building a better well some way off, he said. This place was afterward called Ankona. Gomicbooks (E(0)