Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.




THE HOUSE BOAT BOYS

OR DRIFTING DOWN TO THE SUNNY SOUTH

BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE

Author of "CANOE MATES IN CANADA", "CHUMS IN DIXIE" "THE YOUNG FUR
TAKERS", Etc.





THE HOUSE BOAT BOYS; OR A VOYAGE TO THE GULF.





CHAPTER I.

WHAT A LETTER FROM A TRAMP STEAMER DID.


"I say, what's gone wrong now, Maurice, old fel?"

The speaker, a roughly clad boy of about fifteen or over, caught
hold of his companion's sleeve and looked sympathetically in his
face.

The lad whom he called Maurice was better dressed, and he seemed
to carry with him a certain air of refinement that was lacking in
his friend, who was of a rougher nature. Despite this difference
he and Thad Tucker were the closest of chums, sharing each other's
joys and disappointments, small though they might be.

They had met just now at the post-office of a little country town
not many miles below Evansville, Indiana, as the afternoon mail
was being sorted.

The yellow flood of the great Ohio River could be seen from where
they stood, glowing in the early November sunshine.

Upon being greeted with these words Maurice Pemberton shook his
head dolefully.

"It's come, just as I've been half expecting it these four months,
Thad. The old couple I live with have sold their house and leave
for Chicago in a week. That turns me out into the Streets, for you
know they've given me a home ever since mother, who was a friend
of Mrs. Jasper, died; and in return I've tried to make good by
doing all their gardening and other work between school hours. Now
a son has sent for them to come and make their home with him.
Pretty tough on a fellow not to know where he's going to sleep
after a single week."

But Thad was smiling now, as though an idea had flashed into his
head that gave him reason for something akin to pleasure.

"Well, I don't know; if it comes to the worst, Pard Maurice,
you're a dozen times welcome to share my old bunky on the shanty-
boat. I'd just love to make another cot like mine, and have you
there. Say, wouldn't it be grand? Of course, though, you'd find it
a pretty poor contraption alongside the house you've lived in; but
if it was a thousand dollar launch still you'd be just as welcome,
and you know it," he said with a heartiness that could not be
misunderstood.

The other looked at him affectionately, and was about to say
something in return when the window of the post-office was thrown
open as a signal that the mail had been distributed. So Maurice
stepped up to secure the usual papers, together with an occasional
letter, that came for the Jaspers.

Thad saw him start and look curiously at one letter, and then
begin to tear the end off as though it were meant for him.

Watching curiously, all unaware how history was making at that
identical moment for himself and Maurice, he saw the other smile
and nod his head, while an expression of delight gradually crept
over his face.

Then Maurice remembered that his chum was standing there waiting
for him to come, and together they passed out of the little
office.

"If that doesn't beat the Dutch!" Maurice was saying, half to
himself, as he looked at the letter he was holding in a hand that
trembled a little despite his efforts to seem composed.

"It cert does," declared Thad, positively; and then both laughed.

"Excuse me, old fellow, for not speaking up and letting you into
the facts; but you can see for yourself that the thing's kind of
staggering me a bit. Just to think of its coming today of all
times, when I'm most in need of a home. Talk to me about chance; I
guess there's something better than accident about this."

"All right; I agree with you, Pard Maurice; but suppose you let a
little light in on my dumb brain. Where's the letter from, and
what does she say?" observed the other, eyeing the envelope
dubiously, for he had a sudden fear that it meant the sundering of
the ties that bound them together.

"New Orleans, and it comes from Uncle Ambrose--you've often heard
me speak of him, and that he was a captain on a tramp steamer that
went all over the world picking up cargoes. For three years I've
lost track of him, but he hasn't quite forgotten his nephew
Maurice it seems. Listen to what he says, after telling me how
he's beginning to feel lonely without a relative near, and growing
old all the time. Sit down here where we can look out on the bully
old river, while I read."

Thad dropped beside him on a stone, and cuddled his arms around
his knees in a favorite attitude of his, while he prepared to
listen.

"We are billed to be back here in New Orleans about the fifteenth
of February, and if you can make it, my boy, I'd like to see you
here then. I've got a berth as supercargo open to you, and there's
a fine chance to see something of the world; for in the course of
three years we are apt to visit the seven seas, and many strange
countries. Be sure and come if you care to take up with your old
uncle. The older I grow the stronger the ties that bind to the
past appeal to me, and it will make me happier to have one of my
own blood aboard to share my travels. From your affectionate
uncle. AMBBOSE HADDON.

"On board the Campertown.

"Bully! That's just fine for you, Maurice; but don't you think the
captain forgot one thing?" declared Thad.

"What's that?" asked his friend, looking puzzled.

"Why didn't he think to enclose the price of a ticket from here to
New Orleans? He might have known money didn't grow on bushes
around here."

Maurice laughed.

"I always heard Uncle Ambrose was forgetful of small things, and I
guess it's true. Never once entered his head when he was writing.
Perhaps it may later, and he'll think to enclose the money from
some foreign port. Why, would you believe it, he didn't even
mention where the steamer was going to next; only remarked that
they sailed in a day or so. But the tone of the letter is warm,
and--why, of course I must accept the invitation. It just seems to
come in now at the one time I need it most. You wouldn't want me
to let it pass, would you, Thad?"

"I should say not, even if it does hurt some to think of you going
away and me staying in this bum old place," said his friend,
quickly giving Maurice an affectionate look that spoke volumes.

"If I could only go, too. I'm dead sure uncle would be glad to
have you with me on board; and think of the glorious times we
could have. Why, it seems too good to be true, doesn't it?"

"I guess it does for me. I'd like to go the worst kind, but where
would I pick up the money to pay my way? Of course I might float
down the Mississippi on the Tramp all right, given time enough;
but that would be kind of lonely business for one; now if you
could only--say, I wonder--oh, bosh, of course you wouldn't want
to even think of it," and he dropped his head dejectedly.

"Wouldn't think of what? Why don't you go on and finish? You've
got some sort of a fine scheme in your head, so explain," demanded
Maurice, quickly.

"I was just thinking, that's all, what a great time we might have
if we did start out in my little bum boat to make New Orleans.
There's three months ahead of us, and scores of shanty-boats
float down from Cincinnati to Orleans every fall and winter--you
know that. Gee! what fun we could have!" and the two boys started
at each other for half a dozen seconds without saying a word; but
those looks were more eloquent than all the language ever uttered.

Then Maurice thrust out his hand impulsively.

"Shake! Do you really think we could do it, Thad?" he exclaimed.

"Do I? Why, it would be as easy as pie. Think of it; all you have
to do is to let the current carry you along. It's a snap, that's
what!" cried the other, brimming over with enthusiasm.

Ah! Thad was yet to learn that a thousand unforeseen difficulties
lay in wait for those floating craft that drifted down the great
water highway every winter; but "in the bright lexicon of youth
there is no such word as fail," and to his eyes the enterprise was
a veritable voyage of pleasure, nothing less.

"Then we'll go!" declared Maurice, with vim, shaking his chum's
hand furiously. "Given a week to get my traps together, sell what
I don't want, lay in some provisions, buy a few things, like a
flannel shirt and corduroy trousers after the style of those you
wear, and I'll be ready. Say, Thad, what a day this has turned out
after all, and I was just thinking it the blackest ever."

"It's made me mighty happy, I know," asserted Thad, with tears in
his honest blue eyes; "for I'd just hated to lose you, old boy,
sure I would."

"Just to think of our launching on that great old river and
starting for such a long voyage; it's immense, that's what. I've
always wanted to see something of the old Mississippi and to think
that the chance has come. Why, it's like magic, that's what. A
flip of the hand and everything is changed. The opening of Uncle
Ambrose's letter must have been the turning point in my life--our
lives, Thad. Oh, I am so glad I hardly know what to do." "Ditto
here. On my part I'll put the week in tinkering on the old barge,
for she can stand some improvement, I guess. When that fisherman
gave her to me on going to the hospital, from which the poor
fellow never came back, he said he always intended dropping down
the river to the gulf in her; but I never dreamed I'd be the one
to navigate the Tramp that way. I can hardly wait to get back. I
want to be at work making those changes, and building your bunk."

"Just like you, Thad, always ready to do something for another
fellow," declared his chum, affectionately.

"Oh! shucks! that's where the best part of the fun comes in. And
how lucky it is you've got a gun, Maurice, for there will be lots
of chances while we travel down stream to pick up a mess of ducks,
some snipe, and perhaps a big goose or two. Bob Fletcher told me
he had shot 'em off the bars down the Mississippi."

"Right you are, Thad," cried the other.

"And if our supplies and money run out, why, we can sure stop in
some place and get work, I reckon. Then there's fish to be had for
the catching, and you know I'm up to all the wrinkles about that
job, seeing that I've been supplying many families here with the
finnies during the summer and fall. Say, can you come down
tonight, and talk it all over aboard our palatial houseboat? We
can arrange all the things we want to do, make out a list of
supplies that are sure to be needed, no flimsies or luxuries
allowed, and in the morning I'll get to work."

"Of course I'll come, after supper. Still in the old cove, are
you?"

"Yes. I've got a stout lock on the door now, and every time I
leave the shanty I drag my little canoe, as I call it, into the
house. If I didn't some thief would run off with it sure. They're
a tough crowd around here, the boys I mean. Wonder if we'll run up
against many as bad when we journey along?" remarked Thad; and in
good time he would learn that the Ohio and Mississippi rivers
constitute what might easily be termed the "Rogues' Highway,"
since hundreds of tough characters make use of the current, in
order to slip from one borough that has grown too hot for their
comfort to another where they are not known.

But perhaps it is just as well that we do not see the difficulties
that lie in our path, lest they daunt us by their multitude;
coming one at a time we are enabled to wrestle with the trials and
tribulations, and overcome them gradually.

Filled with enthusiasm the two lads plunged into the task they had
laid out, and long ere the seven days had expired were ready for
the voyage over unknown waters; the little shanty-boat had been
thoroughly repaired, and changes in her interior made, looking to
the comfort of the crew, and all supplies brought aboard that the
limited means of the boys would allow; so that on the tenth of
November all was in readiness for the launching.





CHAPTER II.

THE FIKST NIGHT AFLOAT.


It was a frosty morning, but something more than that would be
needed to dampen the enthusiasm and ardor of the two lads who
pushed out from the river bank where a little creek flowed into
the Ohio's flood, and started upon what was to be a momentous
voyage.

Several of Maurice's boy friends were on hand to wish them the
best of luck, and with the cheers of these fellows ringing in
their ears they moved out upon the swift current of the river.

When the group of boys had vanished and the cruisers found
themselves beyond the confines of the town they had called home
for some years, all attention was given to what lay before them.

The boat had been urged out into the stream by a dexterous use of
the sweep made for that purpose, and which, with the exception of
a couple of long poles, was the only method aboard for steering
the craft; and as it was not their design to get too far away from
shore until they were better versed in the navigable qualities of
the Tramp, the boys sat in comfortable positions and talked,
watching the panorama as they drifted along.

Indeed, there always is something fascinating about such a method
of travel that must appeal to almost any boy; for in spite of the
uplifting tendencies of education, and the refining influences of
homes, there remains in the hearts of most lads, and men as well,
a peculiar longing for a spell of tramp existence--it is
satisfied after a short period in the open and the wilds, when the
comforts of home appeal just as strongly to the exile.

No doubt this yearning for getting close to the heart of Nature is
an inherited trait, coming down to us from our remote ancestors,
and will never be wholly eradicated from our systems.

And these two lads could enjoy it to the full, for neither of them
had known the delights of a real home for many years--in fact
Thad, never.

They made many plans while sitting there, and as time passed and
new views were constantly opening before them, both seemed agreed
that it had been an inspiration that had caused Thad to suggest
this voyage, with the far-away Crescent City as their goal.

Thad had, indeed, done fairly creditable work in fixing up the
interior of the house upon the float.

There were a couple of bunks that in the daytime could be raised
so that they lay flat against the wall, and out of the way, since
room was at a premium inside the shanty, with a cook stove, a
table, a trunk and various other things filling space.

From numerous hooks in a couple of corners their clothes hung;
then about the little stove, which was to give them warmth and
furnish the heat to cook their meals, several frying pans and tin
kettles hung, while a tea kettle sung a soft song of contentment
that seemed to fit in with the spirit possessing the two cruisers.

A supply of firewood occupied a box arranged for its
accommodation, and there was considerable more of the same
outside; while a new axe gave promise of any needed amount,
dependent only upon willing muscles, and an ability to swing the
same freely.

There was the gun Thad had mentioned, hanging from a couple of
nails--true, it might not be called a beauty, for it was an old
type Marlin, and much battered by service; but then Maurice had on
many occasions proved its shooting qualities, and that, after all,
is the true test of a firearm.

It was a double-barrel twelve bore, capable of knocking down even
a big goose, provided the right charge was in the shell, and the
eye that glanced along the tubes knew its business and could hold
on the moving game.

At noon they were passing Henderson, Ky., and changing their
course to the west, for the river makes a tremendous sweep before
getting anywhere near Mt. Vernon, forming a gigantic horseshoe as
it were, the last part of the turn bringing the voyager with his
face into the northeast.

Throughout the whole livelong day the little shanty-boat continued
to sweep along with the current, which was something like four
miles an hour at this point though it exceeds that considerably
when the river rises, or the wind comes out of the north and east.

About 4 o'clock they passed Mt. Vernon, for which both boys were
glad, as they did not enjoy the thought of tying up on this, their
first night afloat, close to a strange town.

They were apt to be pestered by curious visitors, and perhaps boys
bent on pranks that might cost the travelers dear, since some of
these fellows would not think anything about setting fire to a
boat, and laugh to watch the frantic efforts of the owners to
extinguish the flames.

When the dusk was beginning to gather on the moving waters, Thad
spied what seemed to be the mouth of a good-sized creek below.

As they were just then skirting the shore with the intention of
pulling in at the first chance, it was not much of an effort to
turn the boat so that they could pole into the mouth of the stream
and go up it some distance.

Thad's steering oar seemed to work to a charm, and he was more
than a little pleased with his work in that direction; for much of
the pleasure of the long voyage was apt to depend upon the ability
with which they could guide their clumsy craft when an emergency
arose.

Fortunately the creek seemed quite deserted; they had feared lest
some other boat like their own might have preempted their claim,
and the owners endeavor to make it disagreeable for them.

Not that either of the boys felt timid, for they were both built
along the line of fighters, and ready to hold their own with any
chap of their size, or larger; but until they became used to this
strange method of living they would rather not run into any
trouble if it could be decently avoided.

Once the boat was secured to a tree ashore, they began to get busy
with preparations for supper.

While floating down-stream Thad, who was a born fisherman, and
always looking for a chance to snatch a mess of the finny tribe
out of the water, had kept a couple of baited lines dangling
behind; and during the afternoon several bites had resulted in a
couple of captures, both being of an edible variety, known along
the Ohio as buffalo fish, the two weighing possibly four pounds.

Thus they were supplied with the substantial end of a meal without
the cost of a penny.

Thad had cleaned the fish as fast as caught, so that all they had
to do now was to slap them on the frying pan, after a bit of salt
pork had been allowed to simmer, salt and pepper to taste, and
then turn when necessary.

Meanwhile Maurice had made a pot of coffee, and set the table.

A cloth would have been the height of absurdity on such a trip as
this. Maurice had settled that part of the business by tacking
white oilcloth over their single table, and this answered the
purpose admirably, besides being easily kept clean.

"Ain't it great, Captain?" asked Thad, as they sat there enjoying
the meal by the light of the two lanterns hanging from hooks in
the rafters of the cabin roof.

Thad had insisted that Maurice be the skipper of the expedition,
because of his superior knowledge of boats in general, and also
his possessing the chart of the rivers.

For himself he wanted to be called the Cook, and declared that he
felt proud of his ability to fling flapjacks and do various stunts
in connection with getting up appetizing meals.

Nevertheless, it might be noticed that just as frequently the
Captain insisted on taking his turn at the fire or washing the tin
dishes after the meal; while the Cook was able and willing to
stand his "trick at the wheel" when the occasion arose. This was,
of course, stretching the imagination pretty far, since their only
means of propulsion or steering rested in that sweep.

Maurice admitted that it was indeed delightful, and the look on
his face quite satisfied the anxious Thad that as yet he could not
see the slightest cloud on the horizon to make him regret
starting.

For bread they had brought several loaves along; neither of them
had the nerve to think of baking the staff of life in that
disreputable oven, even had they known how.

Later on, however, Maurice did turn out some "pretty fair"
biscuits--that is, the boys thought them good, and they were the
ones to say, since it was their appetites that had to be
satisfied, not those of some finicky girl who might have turned up
her nose in horror at the "abominations" these lads called fine.

Thad smoked, while Maurice had never taken to the habit as yet;
but he did not dislike the odor of tobacco, and hence his chum was
not compelled to always enjoy the solace of his pipe outdoors in
uncongenial weather, though as a rule he preferred to sit there by
the rudder and puff away, while his thoughts ran riot, as those of
a boy usually will.

When the meal was over and the dishes washed, marking the close of
their first day, the lights were extinguished and the boys sat
outside for a short time.

With the gathering of night, however, the air was growing colder
again, so that they were soon glad to seek the shelter of the
cabin.

Maurice made sure to draw the shades fully over the windows, for
he did not wish to advertise the fact of their being in that cove
to every passerby.

They knew that a road ran close to the water, having heard a wagon
passing over a bridge not fifty feet away earlier in the evening.

One thing they had been wise in doing--while the little boat that
trailed behind the larger craft could not be said to possess any
particular pecuniary value, it was of considerable necessity to
the travelers, and represented their only means of getting around
in a hurry, or going ashore when the water was too shallow to
admit of the flat reaching the bank.

In order to prevent possible loss from some prank of mischievous
boys or thieving negroes, Maurice had secured a long and stout
chain, with a padlock, and at night this was so attached to the
dinky that no one could sneak the stumpy little craft away without
the use of a hatchet to chop out the staple; and while this was
being done the owners of the Tramp would surely be getting
extremely busy also with gun and axe.

"How does it go?" asked the owner of the shanty-boat, as he saw
Maurice settle down in his bunk, and draw the blankets around him
with the air of one who did not expect to be disturbed for a long
spell.

"Hunky-dory. Beats my old bed at home by a long shot. There's no
use talking, Thad, you're built for a carpenter, sure pop, and if
there's any vacancy aboard the CAMPERTOWN in that line I'm going
to induce Uncle Ambrose to let you fill it. Douse the glim
whenever you're ready, Cook. I hope I won't have to crawl out of
this bully berth until morning," was the reply of the other, that
brought a smile of satisfaction to Thad's face, for it is always
pleasant to know that one's labor is appreciated.

So Thad blew out the one lantern which they had been using since
coming in the second time, and then crawled into his own bunk. As
he had been occupying this for half a year or more of course he
was very familiar with its features, both good and poor and made
no comment as he retired.

The two boys soon passed into the land of slumber, and as the
hours drew on no sound arose to waken them; indeed, outside all
was still save the gurgle of the great river near at hand, the
swishing of running water against the sturdy bow of the
shanty-boat, a hoarse cry from some bird that fluttered along the
shore looking for food, possibly a night heron passing over, and
once or twice the hoarse whistle of some steamboat breasting the
current of the mighty Ohio.

And the first night of their eventful cruise passed away, with
everything well when the peep of dawn aroused them from slumber to
a new day.





CHAPTER III.

UNWELCOME VISITOKS.


"Hello, Maurice!"

The call came from Thad, who had been the first to step outdoors
after getting into his clothes.

"What now?" came the muffled answer, for Maurice was pulling a
sweater over his head at the moment.

"Come out here, will you. We're in a peck of trouble, I reckon,"
continued the voice from beyond the door; and accordingly Maurice
made haste to leave the cabin.

He found Thad with a pole in his hand, shoving against the bank
until he was as red as a turkey gobbler in the face.

"What's doing here--why all this scrimmage?" naturally sprang from
the lips of the mystified one.

"Stuck fast--river taken a sudden notion to go down while we
snoozed, and has left us on the mud. I don't seem able to budge
the thing an inch; but perhaps the two of us might," returned
Thad, grinning sheepishly as he contemplated the result of their
indiscretion.

Maurice grasped the significance of the situation and looked
grave.

The river, as he well knew, was always a freakish thing, and apt
to rise or fall at any time, according to the amount of rainfall
along its feeders.

Just now it had commenced to rapidly decline, and as a result the
shanty-boat had been grounded.

As it was a heavy affair, once let it fairly settle upon the ooze
of the creek bed and no power they could bring to bear would be
sufficient to start it on its way; and hence they must stay there,
marooned, until the river took a notion to rise again, which might
be in a day, a week or three months.

That was a pleasant lookout for a couple of boys bound south, and
with winter close upon their heels--in a week or two they might be
frozen in so securely that there would be no possibility of
release until spring.

No wonder, then, that Maurice looked serious as he sprang to the
side of the boat and stared over at the water of the creek.

It was running out--they should have known of the danger upon
hearing the gurgle during the night; but somehow, lacking
experience, they had thought nothing of it save that the sound was
a musical lullaby, soothing them to slumber.

They would know better another time, and not fasten their craft to
the shore in a shallow creek when the river was at a stand or
falling; it takes experience to learn some of the tricky ways of
these western rivers; but once understood the cruiser is not apt
to be caught a second time. Maurice snatched up the second pole
and threw his weight upon it, while Thad also strained himself to
the utmost; they could feel the boat move ever so little, but it
was most discouraging, to be sure.

Some other means must be employed if they hoped to get the Tramp
off the slimy bed before she settled there for good.

Maurice was equal to the occasion.

"The block and tackle does it!" he exclaimed, darting into the
cabin.

What mattered it if the rope was second hand, and the block
creaked for want of grease--that last fault was speedily
rectified; and having fastened one end of the line to a tree on
the opposite side of the creek, the boys secured a purchase and
then exerted themselves to the utmost.

It was a success, for now they had a firm foundation, whereas with
the poles it was partly a case of lost force, the soft nature of
the ground preventing them from doing their best.

Impulsive Thad gave a cheer when the boat began to move in
response to their united endeavor, and presently glided off her
slippery bed into the deeper channel of the creek.

"A close shave," declared Maurice, wiping the perspiration from
his forehead, and surveying the late resting place of the
shanty-boat with satisfaction.

"I should remark," echoed his chum, dancing a hornpipe on the
deck; "just think what if we had been stuck here a week or two;
all our grub gone, and the dickens to pay with our plans. Never
again for me. I'm going to be the most careful chap when it comes
to lying up to a bank with this craft you ever saw."

"I'll get the line loose while you start up the fire. Then we'll
push out of here and cook breakfast while we float downstream.
Every mile made now may save us trouble later; for you know what
old Pap Larkin told us about sudden freezes coming sometimes in
November, and we want to get in the big river before we strike
anything like that."

In less than ten minutes they were moving out of the mouth of the
creek, with the river, half wreathed in fog, lying before them.

"We'll have to keep a good lookout, unless we want to run a chance
of cutting down some river steamer coming upstream," laughed Thad.

"Oh, that's easily avoided by keeping close in by the shore until
this mist rises, which I calculate it will do by 9 o'clock or so,"
replied Maurice, using his pole to advantage, so as to send the
boat out upon the current of the river, where they were speedily
moving merrily along.

It was a delight to cook breakfast with such surroundings, and a
constantly changing panorama along the shore.

Never did bacon have such a delicious odor; and when the coffee
boiled up, sending its fragrance throughout the cabin and out of
the partly open door, Maurice, who was attending to the steering
part of the business at the time, loudly bewailed the fact that he
must wait five long minutes more ere satisfying the craving
appetite that these suggestions of breakfast put on edge.

While they were still eating they passed a place on the Kentucky
side that from the map they believed to be Uniontown, which proved
that they were making fair progress while sitting around--which is
one of the finest things in connection with drifting south.

As Maurice said it reminded him of a garden that grew while the
proprietor slept, for they could count on so many miles a day with
ordinary good luck, and not a hand put out to urge the craft
along.

While both these boys had spent much of their lives upon the banks
of the Ohio, and were accustomed to the various sights familiar to
all river dwellers, at the same time things had a vastly different
appearance now that they were afloat and actually drawing a little
nearer and nearer to the sunny southland with each passing hour.

They were in good spirits all the time, and hailed other voyagers
with the customary salutations suitable to the occasion.

It became no unusual thing to see one or two flatboats with cabins
something like their own, either drifting lazily along the stream
or tied up close to the bank; for, as has been said before, the
river is a muchly traveled highway, and the types of people that
make use of it in their annual pilgrimages south must prove of
tremendous interest to any one fond of studying humanity.

It was a banner day for the travelers, clear and fairly pleasant,
one that in the rougher times ahead would always be looked back to
as a period to be envied.

They made great progress, too, and when the afternoon sun waning
in the west warned them that it was time to keep their eyes about
for a decent place in which to pass the night, Maurice calculated
that they had come all of forty miles since morning, which was
making quite a gap in the distance separating them from the
junction of the two rivers.

The air was growing colder, and Thad, who professed to be
something of a weather sharp, declared that they were in for a
touch of winter very speedily, which made them both long to get
out of the clutches of the Ohio before ice formed and impeded
their progress.

Maurice scouted any chance of this happening; it might have been
more serious had they been cruising in a small boat which must
find a safe harbor every night in some creek; because it might
grow cold enough to freeze such a craft in some night, or at least
shut those harbors of refuge to entrance; but with such a big and
stanch craft they could tie up to the shore and pay little
attention to the in-rolling waves cast by the suction of passing
steam-boats.

This night they found a chance to secure the shanty-boat to some
rocks; and as the neighborhood seemed lonely, they chose to go
ashore and build a fire on the sandy stretch that ran under the
shelving bank.

Just for a change they cooked supper ashore, too, for it would be
seldom that this sort of an opportunity might come to them, and
they felt that they ought to take advantage of it while it lasted.

Already had the wind shifted to the northwest, and it was cold
enough to make them seek the leeward side of the fire while eating
supper.

They had gone aboard to see about the fire, and Maurice was lying
on a bed of dead grass and moss looking into the glowing depths of
the fire and allowing his thoughts to go out to the wonderful
possibilities of the beckoning future, with Uncle Ambrose as the
good fairy who was to lead him into strange lands that he had
always wanted to see, when a bit of turf falling upon his arm
caused him to suddenly glance upward.

To his surprise and a little to his consternation he beheld three
black faces surveying him from over the edge of the bank; nor did
he fancy the expression that could be seen upon the said
countenances.

Upon seeing that their presence was no longer unknown to the boy
below, the trio of darkies dropped over the bank.

Closer inspection failed to add to the good opinion of Maurice,
for the fellows bore all the earmarks of desperadoes, possibly
belonging to that class of nomads who prowl along the shores of
these western rivers, picking up a living by doing odd jobs, and
stealing whenever they think it can be done with safety.

"Hello, boss! Done takin' it easy, I spects. Got any 'jections ter
weuns warmin' up a little by dat fiah? Gittin' powful cold, boss,
an' it jes' happens we ain't got nary a match in our clo's, dat's
a fack," said the leader, advancing eagerly and holding out his
hands toward the blaze.

"Why, of course not, boys; make yourselves at home. I was just
going aboard anyway, and the fire's yours," remarked Maurice,
rising.

He saw the three roughs looks quickly toward each other, and noted
that one of them had slipped between him and the boat, as though
it might be their intention to prevent his leaving.

It was evident that there was trouble brewing, and unless it was
nipped in the bud something of a fight would take place.

That they would stand no show whatever in the hands of these
rascals, alone as they were in this isolated place, Maurice knew
full well, but he would not allow himself to show any sign of fear
lest in this way he precipitate the trouble.

Perhaps these men had been watching them for some time, and knew
there were only a couple of boys on the shanty-boat, so that it
would be useless to call out as if several husky men constituted
the crew.

Maurice did not wish to come within arms' length of the negro who
had slipped between himself and the boat, lest the fellow seize
upon him, so that he was in a quandary how to act in order to gain
his haven of refuge.

The puzzle was solved in a way he had not anticipated, for just as
the wicked-looking black tramp was putting out his hand to grasp
him, as he pulled back, a voice broke upon the silence, the voice
of his comrade Thad, saying:

"I'd be mighty careful how I laid a hand on that boy, you there!"





CHAPTER IV.

A LITTLE RUN IN THE NIGHT.


When Thad thus broke in upon the little drama being enacted upon
the strip of beach under the overhanging bank of the river the
three negroes, as well as Maurice, looked toward the deck of the
boat.

By the light of the fire on the sand Thad was seen holding the old
Marlin in his hands, and keeping the frowning muzzles of the two-
barrel gun pointed in the direction of the black tramp who had
seemed about to interfere with the passage of Maurice to the boat.

Evidently none of the fellows were armed, at least with shooting
irons, for it was almost ludicrous to see the rapidity with which
they threw up their arms and showed signs of surrender.

"Don't let dat little buster go off, mister. We ain't meanin' yuh
no ha'm, 'deed we ain't now, We's jes' de most innercentest coons
yuh eber seed, we is. All we asks is a chanct tuh wawm our fingers
by dis ere blaze, an' I reckons yuh won't keer 'bout dat, massa,"
exclaimed the leader, in a whining tone.

Maurice took advantage of the opportunity to walk around the
fellow who had interfered with his free passage, and gain the deck
of the boat, when Thad immediately turned the gun over to him.

Evidently the boys were in for a bad time of it.

These wandering blacks might want to lie around the fire all
night, and sleep would be impossible for both lads at the same
time, since there must be a watch kept lest the rascals rob them
during the hours of darkness.

Maurice knew that it was best to take the situation in hand right
then and there in the start; he also was aware of the fact that
these negroes only yielded to force, and that any attempt to gain
their good will would be absolutely wasted; for Southern boys
learn that early in life, and so it is they can manage the
shiftless population that is employed to work on the plantations,
while Northern men make the mistake of treating such negroes too
well.

Accordingly Maurice took the bull by the horns.

"See here, you fellows, we don't object to your having all the
fire you want, but we're not going to stand having you camp right
there all night. Go down the shore or up a hundred yards or so,
and take some of the fire with you. Then one of you come back here
and get a big fish we have no use for. I reckon you know how to
cook it without a pan. Anyhow, it's all we can let you have, for
we're on short rations ourselves. Dye understand, boys?" he said.

Maurice could assume quite an air of authority when he chose; it
seemed to be a portion of his birthright; and these lazy blacks
are quick to recognize this vein in the voice of anyone with whom
they come in contact.

"All right, boss. We don't wanter tuh disturb yuh, an' we'll go up
de sho' er bit. Dat fish he taste mighty fine, I reckons, mister,
an' we sho' be powful glad tug git 'im, dat's so. Hyah, yuh lazy
good-for-nothin' brack niggah, pick up some ob dat fiah an' tote
it up yander whah de p'int juts out. Dat look good enuff fur dis
chile. An' boss, ef yuh gut dat ere fish handy I cud kerry hit wid
me right now," remarked the strapping leader.

"Get it, Thad," said Maurice, in a low tone, not wishing to take
his eye off the trio of desperadoes for a moment, not knowing what
they might attempt, for if ever he had seen jailbirds loose it was
just then.

So Thad stepped around the cabin and took down the big "buffalo"
that was hanging by a cord so that the night air would keep it in
decent condition; it had come in on one of his lines that
afternoon, and they really had little use for such a quantity of
fish; indeed, both boys were already a little tired of a diet of
the products of the river, and yearned for different fare.

The darky ashore caught the finny prize, and his eyes glistened at
its size; but Maurice knew full well that this act of benevolence
on their part would not serve to protect them a particle from the
thieving propensities of the nomads if a chance were given to
purloin anything.

In ten minutes they could see a fire up on the point of land and
hear the loud voices of the three blacks disputing over various
things--evidently they were a noisy crowd, and the prospects for
a quiet night did not loom up very brilliantly. Maurice listened
and his brow clouded over.

"I don't like the prospect a little bit, Thad," he remarked, as a
louder burst of profanity than usual marked a near fight above.

"We're in for a tough night, it seems," sighed his chum, dismally.

"Oh! as to that, I don't know. It all depends whether we have the
nerve to cut the Gordian knot," observed Maurice, grimly.

His friend looked hastily at him, for the fire was still burning
fitfully on the shore, though robbed of its best brands by the
negroes.

"What dye think of doing--running those critters off--gee, it's a
big proposition for a couple of boys, Maurice."

"The running's all right, but you get the cart before the horse.
It's us who are to do the skipping, while they enjoy that fish a
little later. All depends on whether we care to take the chances
of floating down a mile or two further in the dark, and finding a
place to tie up. If we don't it's a case of floating on all night,
and running the risk of a collision."

"I say go. Why, we've got an anchor, you know, and the current
ain't so very swift near shore but what it'd hold when we chose to
drop her over. If we stay here one of us has to be on guard all
night, and even then I believe those black jailbirds would be ugly
enough to try and burn us up or something like that--steal our
pumpkin-seed boat perhaps. Yes, I'm in favor of cutting loose,"
declared Thad, eagerly.

"All right; consider it settled. We'll just wait until we think
they're busy with the fish and then one of us must go ashore while
the other covers him with the gun, and undo the line from those
rocks. After that it will be easy."

Half an hour passed away.

Then, as the sounds had died out above, they fancied the trio of
unwelcome neighbors must be busily employed in eating, so Thad
volunteered to drop ashore and get the rope loose from its
anchorage.

Maurice was a little skeptical about the apparent freedom from
surveillance, and stood on deck with the shotgun in his hands
ready to spring to the assistance of his pard at the slightest
sign of trouble.

But Thad met with no opposition when he climbed to where the loop
of the rope was secured over the pinnacle of rock, and in a minute
he had freed the line, tossing it down on the beach where it could
be pulled aboard.

When his comrade was again alongside, Maurice breathed easier;
this was their first adventure, and it was apt to make a deep
impression on both lads.

A dozen pulls sufficed to bring the rope aboard and then the poles
were taken in hand with the idea of shoving off from the shore.

They had been careful not to let the boat ground, remembering
their experience of the previous night, so this part of the job
was not difficult at all.

Just as they began to move with the current they heard a loud yell
from the shore, and looking up saw one of their late visitors
standing there, surveying the vanishing shanty-boat with manifest
dismay and anger.

His shout was evidently understood by the others, for they could
be heard tearing along down the shale heading for the scene.

But our boys had now pushed the boat far enough out into the
stream to avoid any possibility of being boarded, no matter how
bold the desperadoes might be; and it gave them no concern that
the trio howled and swore and threatened all manner of things for
being deserted in this manner, just when they thought they had a
good soft snap for a breakfast, and perhaps fat pickings.

Thanks to the friendly current, the boys were quickly beyond
earshot of the loud-tongued and chagrined blacks on the shore.

"Ugh! that wasn't a pleasant experience, was it? Did you ever set
eyes on three more villainous mugs in all your life? Those
scoundrels are sure doomed to meet with a noose before they're
many months older, for if they haven't done murder up to now
they're going to before long. I'm glad we gave them the slip. It
was well done all around. Now to float on for an hour or so, and
then see if we have any luck finding an anchorage."

Maurice contented himself with these words, but Thad had to skip
around on the deck in his usual exuberant style before he could
settle down to taking his trick at the steering apparatus.

Thus the shanty-boat floated on through the darkness, and the
minutes slipped along until the hour set had been exhausted; then,
when they were thinking of coming to a halt, the lights of a town
appeared close by, and it became necessary to navigate with
caution lest they strike some obstruction in the shape of an
anchored boat or a dock where steamboats landed.

It was decided to drop down a little distance below the place and
tie up, for as some of their provision were already getting low,
it would be necessary to go ashore and lay in more bread at least.

When a jutting point shut out the last of the town lights, they
poled in closer to the shore, and began to cast about for some
friendly tree to which the hawser could be attached.

"There's a shanty-boat tied up yonder," whispered Thad, suddenly,
pointing to a place where the gleam of a light through a small
window could be seen.

"Let her float down a bit farther. We don't want too close
neighbors, especially when we know nothing about them. There,
listen to that dog bark; the little rat sees us all right. That's
where we made a mistake not to get a dog to go with us on the
trip; they're good company, and fine for guarding the boat. First
chance I get I mean to have one, no matter if it's a mongrel
yellow cur."

A man stepped out of the cabin of the boat that was tied up and
looked across the little stretch of water separating them.

"Hello!" he said, as if seeing them clearly. "Going to tie up
below?"

Maurice rather liked the ring of his voice, and so he made answer.

"We want to--is there good holding ground or a convenient tree, do
you know?" he asked.

"Yes, half a dozen of 'em. I saw the lot before dark; and the
swing of the current pushes in toward the bank. Don't get too far
in, as she's lowering right along," continued the friendly
flatboatman.

Maurice thanked him, for it was a pleasure to run across a chap so
different from the usual type of selfish, envious and profligate
drifters.

They quickly sighted the trees, and Thad, jumping ashore, soon had
a line fast around one that would hold them safely until daylight.

The man on the other boat had glimpsed them sufficiently to have
his interest aroused, for they could hear him throwing a pair of
oars into a small boat, and sure enough he quickly came alongside.

"Anything I can do to help you, boys?" he asked with so much
heartiness that Maurice warmed toward him immediately.

Of course there was really no need of assistance, since everything
had been already accomplished; but Maurice asked the other to come
aboard and join them in a friendly little chat.

The trip promised to be lonely enough, with suspicions directed
toward nearly all those encountered, so that it was a real
pleasure to run across a good fellow like this who felt some
interest in them.





CHAPTER V.

HARD PUT TO KEEP WARM.


The big, broad-shouldered man proved to be a machinist and clock
mender, who was in the habit of plying his trade along the river
every winter; he had his family aboard the boat that served him as
a workshop, and there were certain localities on his route where
they looked for him regularly--he was, it seemed, a jack-of-all-
trades, and could after a fashion even tune a piano if pushed.

Our two boys enjoyed an hour or two in his company very much, and
learned considerable about matters connected with the lower river
that might possibly prove valuable to them later on.

In return, of course, they told Bob Archiable all about their
project, and he wished them a pleasant voyage to the Crescent
City, with much luck when Uncle Ambrose came to port.

The itinerant machinist told them they had undoubtedly done a wise
thing in quitting their harbor up the river after the advent of
those three roughs. He believed he knew who the trio might be, and
if he was right they were the ugliest set of desperadoes in that
vicinity, who would not hesitate to attempt any sort of dark deed,
provided the reward seemed sufficient to compensate for the risk
involved.

It was a real pleasure to run across such a pleasant and manly
fellow as Archiable, and the meeting, brought about in so queer a
manner, would always remain in the memory of the two boys as one
of the bright spots of their cruise down the river.

The night passed quietly.

One of the boys came out on deck now and again, as they happened
to be awake; for the incident of the early evening seemed to have
made them somewhat nervous; but nothing happened, and morning came
along in due season, with a lowering sky and a feeling of snow in
the air.

Maurice went back to the town for supplies after they had eaten
breakfast, while Thad took the dinky and paddled up to where the
other boat was tied to enjoy a little more talk with the jolly
owner.

He met Bob's wife, a little woman who seemed to thoroughly enjoy
the strange experience of being a pilgrim half the year.

There were also a couple of boys, one six and the other eight,
sturdy little chaps, who looked like chips of the old block, and
only eager for the time to come when they could put their
shoulders to the wheel and help "dad."

Finally they got away and waved a farewell to this friendly
couple, who had conceived a sudden and abiding interest in the
future of the two young voyagers starting out in the big world to
seek their fortunes.

"We're going to get it in the neck today, I reckon," remarked
Thad; and if his words were lacking in elegance, they certainly
conveyed a proper notion of what he meant to his comrade, for the
air was biting, and the waves dashed up against the starboard side
of the shanty-boat in a way that was suggestive of storm and little
progress.

So it must always be in making a trip down these inland waters,
where one is at the mercy of a capricious current save when a
favorite of fortune chances to own a motor boat that scorns the
usual drifting process, and speeds along at a ten-mile-an-hour
clip, regardless of baffling head winds.

One day excellent progress may be made, and then come several
during which it seems as though every deterring influence in the
calendar arises to keep the voyager from making his expected
distance during the hours of daylight.

It is just as well in the start to decide that nothing that can
arise will disturb one's temper, and that with equally good nature
the bad will be accepted with the good.

By ten o'clock it was snowing furiously, and the tang of the
bitter wind that swept across from the far distant Indiana shore
seemed to penetrate to the very marrow, so that the boys were
constantly exchanging places, one bobbing inside the cabin to get
warm while the other held the steering apparatus.

The snow became so furious that soon they were unable to see even
the Kentucky bank, and then Maurice began to think they had better
haul up before losing their bearings; it would be a serious matter
to find themselves adrift on the wide river without knowing
whether they were in the middle of the stream or not.

"We'd better haul in closer to the shore, and come to a halt, I
think, Thad. It may be all right to run along in the midst of this
storm, but I don't like it a little bit. In fact, that cabin seems
good enough for me today. How do you feel about it, old man?" he
asked, rubbing his hands, which, even when covered with a pair of
woolen gloves, felt the stinging cold.

"Couldn't please me better," answered his chum, picking up a pole
and feeling to ascertain the depth of the water.

With that wind blowing them toward shore there was little
difficulty in making a landing, and after skirting the edge for
some distance they found a chance to get a purchase on a
convenient tree, when the trick was done.

All the balance of the day they hugged the fire; nor were they any
too warm at that, for the furious blast seemed to find cracks and
crannies in the wall of the flimsy cabin through which to gain
entrance.

At times it fairly howled around them, and Thad suggested the
advisability of their tying down the cabin with a spare cable, for
fear less some tremendous blast of wind tear it from its
foundations and send it flying among the treetops ashore; but
Maurice declared he did not believe it to be quite so bad as all
that.

As the supply of fuel was growing low it became necessary for one
of them at a time to go ashore and use the ax to a purpose, so
that during the afternoon the pile was replenished bountifully in
this manner.

Such a night as that was--the boys had never passed a more
unpleasant one in all their previous experience.

It became very cold in the cabin, despite the half-way decent fire
they kept going all night, and their blankets did not seem to be
sufficient covering to induce warmth, for Maurice was shivering
most of the time.

A flimsy boat like the one they were on can seem like an iceberg
during a heavy wind that sweeps across a wide stretch of rough
water, and comes straight out of the Alaska region; then, the
waves that were kicked up by its passage across the river dashed
against the side of the boat and flew in spray over the very top
of the cabin, freezing upon the wall in great icicles, and adding
to the general discomfort, for in the morning they had difficulty
in breaking their way out of the door.

About four o'clock Maurice could not stand it any longer, and
getting up, he pulled on his sweater and sat down to make the
stove red hot, after which it became fairly comfortable in the
cabin and Thad slept on.

Luckily the storm was of short duration, and with the morning the
wind seemed to have gone down considerably, with promise of a
further mitigation of the cold during the day.

Of course, neither of the boys enjoyed such an experience, but
they were of a philosophical turn of mind and ready to accept
things as they eame along, making the most of the good and
enduring the evil when it could not be avoided.

Lucky the lad who has been blessed with a disposition after this
kind, for life will have a bountiful supply of pleasures in store
for him, out of which no temporary adversity may cheat him.

They started downstream again after breakfast, for the snow had
ceased and it was easily possible to see their course.

The morning packet breasting the current hove in sight a short
time after they cut loose from their night's anchorage, and it was
always a pleasure for them to wave to those aboard these boats--
never did the pilot aloft in his little house wfeere he handled
the wheel fail to respond to the waving of a handkerchief--it was
the custom of the river, and one would be lacking in common
politeness if he refused to answer such a friendly greeting.

By noon they were making great progress again, and Maurice began
to have hopes of bringing up at Paducah by night; but there were
so many twists and turns to the river he had not counted on that
when the afternoon drew near its close and they saw a town at the
mouth of a river coming in on the Kentucky side, he knew it must
be Smithland lying at the junction of the Cumberland with the
Ohio.

Once again they floated past a town, unwilling to put in for fear
of trouble with some of the rough characters usually found along
the river front in all of these places.

Fortunately, after experiencing some difficulty in crossing the
mouth of the Cumberland, which was belching forth a volume of
yellow water that carried the shanty-boat out some distance,
despite their efforts, they finally managed to find a place to
stay for the night.

It was in striking contrast to the previous experience, for there
was no wind, and the cold had moderated wonderfully, so that it
seemed as though rain might be the next thing on the program.

They were a bit too close to the town for quiet, as sounds
frequently came to their ears from a number of flatboats anchored
just below the mouth of the smaller river that emptied its volume
of water into the Ohio; these people were evidently engaged in
having a high old time, probably with plenty of liquor, for they
kept the racket going more than half the night.

Fortunately, however, they knew nothing of the nearness of the
shanty-boat that had gone past just at dusk, and while our boys
kept the door locked and slept on their arms, so to speak, they
were not disturbed at all.

They were glad to get away in the morning without meeting any of
the rough element belonging to those anchored shanty-boats.

Paducah showed up during the morning, after which they had a long
stretch before them straight away into the west as it seemed, at
the end of which they could expect to find the big junction city
of Cairo.

Here they would make a sudden turn to the left and begin to glide
down the waters of the wonderful Mississippi, heading really south
at last.

But they could not hope to make it on this day, though a favorable
run seemed to be the order of things; it actually did rain, as
Thad predicted, and each of the boys, clad in oilskins, took turns
at the rudder as the boat swung along downstream, not far away
from the Kentucky shore.

Taking it in all they had experienced but little decent weather
thus far; that would come, they hoped, when they managed to get
further along in the direction of Dixie, where the warm breezes
would thaw them out, and allow of lying on the deck taking a sun
bath.

The shore was mighty uninviting along here and seemed low in most
places and marshy.

Ducks were numerous and the gun was kept handy in case they had a
chance to knock down a couple, for it would be an agreeable change
in their fare to have game for supper.

The rain stopped about three, and Maurice, who had been looking
ahead, declared that if he could only get ashore he believed it
was possible to crawl through the brush and get a shot at a bunch
of ducks in a cove ahead; so the boat was brought to a stop by
means of the anchor, and jumping into the little dinky, gun in
hand, he made for the shore.

Thad waited after he had disappeared, being anxious to see how the
adventure panned out.

About ten minutes later he heard a shot, followed by a second, and
then Maurice came hurrying along to the little boat into which he
jumped and set out in hot chase of his game, which was floating
away on the current.

Thad pulled in the anchor and floated downstream; he saw his chum
drag several ducks aboard, and so of course Thad had to do the
Highland fling as usual.





CHAPTER VI.

IN THE GAME COUNTRY.


It proved that Maurice had knocked down three of the feathered
prizes, and as they were fat teal, it looked like a genuine treat
in store for the river travelers on the shanty-boat.

Thad was at work plucking the fowl before they had gone fifty
yards down the stream, and announcing that they would have them
for dinner that very night--at least a couple, for he believed one
apiece ought to satisfy the demand.

"When I heard you shoot I knew we were in for a treat, and with
the second shot I said it must be two; but you went me one better,
Pal Maurice. That little old gun is as good as ever, I do believe,
and my conscience, how she does penetrate. These bones are knocked
into flinters in places. How many were there in that flock?"

"Just three," returned Maurice, smiling.

"I thought so, and you bagged the whole lot. I reckon no fellow
could have done better than that, at least so you could notice,"
quoth Thad, holding up the first victim of his labors so that the
shooter could see how plump the bird was.

"Yum, yum," went on Thad, swinging it to and fro, and gloating
over the tempting appearance of the game; "don't I just wish it
was time to sound the gong for supper and these boys browned and
ready to be devoured. But three mortal hours must crawl along
before then. How can I ever stand it?" he groaned.

Maurice was accustomed to these ludicrous actions of his chum, and
only laughed at the wry face he made; but, to tell the truth, he
would not be sorry himself when the night had settled down over
the river, and they were lying in some snug sheltered nook,
sniffing the cooking meal.

The birds seemed to be young, and it was decided to try the oven
upon them; so Thad went in, after he had them both ready.

Once when the other glanced through the partly open door he saw
him trying to make some stuffing out of bread crumbs. Then the
fire was attended to, so that there would be an abundance of heat,
after which Thad appeared with the look of a victor on his face.

An hour later and the first scent of dinner began to ooze from the
door; whereupon Thad darted in and began to baste the fowl with
tender solicitude.

He came out making motions with his lips as though his mouth were
fairly watering, and shaking his head in a suggestive way that
made Maurice roar.

Meanwhile the boat had been steadily heading down the river, and
the same dismal prospect confronted them along the shore--marshy
land, with higher ground further back, an ideal place for ducks,
great flocks of which could be seen at this hour flying from the
river to some favorite sleeping place in the marsh.

"If this were a hunting expedition, which it is not, we would not
need to go a bit further than this place. Just imagine the
shooting a fellow could have in the swampy land beyond--with some
decoys he could bang away for hours at fresh flocks passing back
and forth all day trading. Well, I mean to pick up quite a few now
and then, unless we get tired of duck as we did of fish," Maurice
observed, while watching these bunches of feathered squawkers
sailing swiftly past the boat and heading shoreward.

"Tired of duck--why, you could never get me to say that. I could
eat it every meal and every day for a month," announced Thad,
sniffing the air, which was now becoming very strongly impregnated
with a delicious odor that announced the nearness to completion of
the baking birds.

And when finally they found a place to anchor the shanty-boat--for
trees there were none within reach of their longest cable--and the
shades of evening began to gather around them, Thad went inside to
see if dinner were ready for serving.

Well, that was a feast the boys enjoyed to the limit--the ducks
were tender, delightfully browned, and possessed of a flavor our
young and hungry cruisers had never seen equaled; the stuffing
proved to be a success; the coffee was as tasty as usual, and, in
fact, they fairly reveled in good things until nature called a
halt, and the board was cleared.

The night proved very quiet, and as there was now a moon of fair
size, the early part of it was not wholly dark and forbidding.

And such a variety of queer sounds as came to their ears from the
adjacent marshes, most of which must have been made by the aquatic
birds that spent the night there; but there were also mysterious
grunts and squawks that kept both boys guessing for the longest
time, while they sat on deck, Thad smoking his pet pipe and
Maurice just bundled up in a blanket, taking it easy.

"I rather think if a fellow hunted around in that place he'd find
'coons and 'possums galore, besides a fox or two prowling around
in search of a fat duck, for you know, Thad, they're like you, and
can eat one at every meal, day in and day out. A funny assortment
of sounds to woo a chap to sleep, eh? If you wake up in the night
please don't think you're in a menagerie and shout for me to jump
in and pull you out. To speak of it makes me feel that I'm pretty
sleepy and that a turn of a few hours in that cozy bunk of mine
wouldn't go amiss. What say?"

It turned out that Thad was about as sleepy as his chum, so after
looking to the anchor to see that it had good holding ground, for
a sudden storm coming out of the east would be apt to sweep them
down the big river, extremely dangerous at this point, they
retired inside the cabin.

The night passed without any storm, breaking over their devoted
heads, for which both boys were thankful when morning came, and
they looked out to see the sun painting the heavens red with his
advance couriers.

Maurice was washing his face in the only little tin basin they
owned when he heard an exclamation from his friend--whenever
anything out of the usual occurred Thad always began growling and
talking to himself as though he had an audience which was waiting
to be addressed.

"Well, it's gone sure enough, and that's all there is to it. Now,
hang it, how could a fox have come aboard our boat with twenty
feet of water separating us from the shore? That's a conundrum I
give up," Thad was saying to himself.

"Hey what all this row about--who's been aboard during the night,
and what do you miss, Mr. Cook? You remember we ate those two
ducks last night; did you expect they would turn up again this
morning to be devoured over again?" laughed the Captain, still
dashing the cold water in his face, and finally snatching up the
coarse huck towel to rub his skin dry.

"That's all right, but it's the other chap I'm after now--perhaps
you'll be so obliging as to tell me where I can put my paws on
him. I hung the duck from this nail--the cord was good and strong,
and it couldn't have broken loose. You see it ain't there now. So
the question is did the blamed bird come to life again and
skedaddle off, or was one of your friends the foxes aboard while
we snoozed, to make way with my fat duck? Anyhow, it's gone, dead
sure, and that's no lie."

"I see it is. Certain, are you, that it hung there when we went to
bed?"

"One of the last things I did was to slip around here and nip it
to make sure it was as tender as those jolly birds we had for
supper. There wasn't any wind to whip it around and twist the cord
till it broke. Yet where is it now?" and he shook his head
dolefully, looked at his friend as if confident Maurice could in
some way explain the mystery.

Maurice went at things in a far different way from his chum;
instead of calling it an unfathomable mystery he stepped forward
and took hold of the piece of cord that still hung from the nail.

Thad saw him closely examine it.

"Could a fox swim aboard and climb on top of the cabin to reach
over and down to where that duck was hanging, and cut the cord
with his sharp teeth, and then sling the bird over his shoulder to
swim back again to--" he began.

"Stop!" exclaimed Maurice. "You're on the wrong track. It wasn't a
fox!"

"'Coon, 'possum, wildcat, whatever could it have been?"

"A two-legged thief," announced Maurice, quietly.

"Shucks! you don't say so? How'd he ever get here, and if he
wanted to steal why didn't he run off with something more valuable
than a poor little teal?"

"H'm, will you tell me what he could have taken, with everything
nailed down, the cabin door locked and even the little dinky
fastened with a chain and lock. This cord was cut with a knife and
never twisted apart. Do you know that once in the night I awoke
and thought I heard something knock against the side of the boat--
that must have been his skiff when he came aboard, and I thought
it was only a floating log. Well, our teal is gone; but think of
the lot over in the marsh yonder. The fellow must have been mighty
hungry, and with no way of shooting a dinner. Why, while you cook
breakfast I'm going to see what I can do with taking toll of our
neighbors who kept serenading us all night."

Which he did.

Once in the marsh with the little boat and his gun, Maurice found
that it would be the easiest thing in the world to knock over a
dozen ducks if he wanted them, and indeed he held his fire from
the first because he believed he could get several victims with
the one shot.

Four times he pulled the trigger inside of ten minutes, and when
Thad looked out to see if he were in sight, so as to wave to him
that breakfast was ready, the lone hunter was just in the act of
throwing a couple of plump birds upon the deck.

"Two--wow, that's good!" cried Cookey, in his usual ornate style,
darting out to pick the game up.

"Four!" exclaimed Maurice, suiting the action to the word, and
landing a second brace beside the first.

As Thad stooped down to feel of these he received a shock, for a
third couple struck him on the head.

"Six?" he ejaculated, almost afraid to believe his eyes.

"That's not all. I'm determined to keep you on a duck diet for a
week, so there's another brace, and for good measure count these
as ten!" announced the mighty Nimrod, climbing over the gunwhale
himself, gun in hand.

It was a pretty assortment of game, six of them teal, three
mallards and one of an unknown breed, which Maurice thought might
be a broadbill, though he had an idea that class of divers kept
near the salt water in its migration.

"I forgive that wretched thief; he's welcome to the lone duck he
took. Why, it looks like you'd enjoy nothing better than to agree
to supply food for all the families in Evansville at this rate;
and I believe you could do it, too, down here, for every time you
shot, a million or two ducks sprang up above that marsh, and their
wings made a roar like thunder. Say, I like this country around
here. Given a good old gun like this Marlin, plenty of ammunition,
a fishing outfit, and some cooking things and matches--yes, and a
little tobacco for a fellow's pipe, and I think I could exist here
forever without needing a cent. I'm awful glad I came, ain't you,
pal?"

"Don't I look like it, Cook? See anything like regret on my phiz?
I'm just as happy as I look, and the end isn't yet, for we've got
several months of this before us; of course, there'll be troubles
and setbacks, but in spite of all we're sure to keep making steady
progress into Dixieland, and long before Uncle Ambrose gets into
port again we'll be waiting for him in New Orleans. It was just
the finest thing in the world that his letter should have reached
me on that black day; and then to think how you had this
inspiration, too--why, I consider that we're two of the luckiest
fellows on earth this morning," said Maurice, earnestly.

"Bully for you, old pal; my sentiments exactly; and now, come in
to breakfast."





CHAPTER VII.

A WILD BLOW.


"How does it look to you--think we can make the riffle today?"
asked Thad, as they floated down the stream, very broad and
swollen at this point, as the low shores allowed the water just
that much more expanse--further up, the Ohio is confined by hills
that prevent its spreading to any great extent, even in the spring
freshets.

Maurice knew what he meant, for they had only the one thought in
mind just now, and that was getting into the Mississippi.

He drew out his charts and studied them to make sure he was right,
though from frequent use he knew the same by heart.

"I can see no reason why we shouldn't. As near as I can make out
we're now something like twenty-three miles above Cairo, and at
the rate we're sailing along we ought to pass there shortly after
noon--say by two o'clock anyway. That will give us time to move
down a few miles and have our first night on the greatest of
American rivers," he remarked.

"I'm a little bit worried as to how we'll get on. You see I've
heard so much about the tricks of the big river that I'm nervous,"
admitted Thad.

"Oh, rats! It can't be much worse than the old Ohio when she gets
on a bender, and we've seen some pretty big ones in my time. We'll
come out all right, never fear, old chap. Every day will have to
look out for itself. What's the use of borrowing trouble? Not any
for me. Now, what could be finer than this view, for instance?"
sweeping his hand around to include land and water, with the sun
dimpling the little waves.

"Nothing on earth; it's just grand, that's a fact, and I'm a fool
for thinking anything can get the better of a couple of fellows
like you and me when we've got our war clothes on. Hurrah for We,
Us and Company, not forgetting the old Tramp. Say, she's behaving
herself some, eh, pard," laughed Thad, his face all wreathed in
genial smiles again.

"She's all right, and a credit to you. A little cool and inclined
to be draughty on a windy night, but taken all in all a thing of
beauty and a joy forever. Here's to her--may it be many a moon
before she's broken up into hindling wood."

So they joked and chatted as the day wore along.

Nothing escaped their eagle eyes on the shore, and from time to
time one would draw the attention of the other to some point of
especial interest.

Now it might be the peculiar formation of a point of land, some
trees, a swamp with hanging Spanish moss, which, however, was
nothing to what they would see further south--or anon perhaps it
was some negro cabin on an elevation, with the pickaninnies
playing by the door, and the strapping woman of the household
leaning against the post, always smoking her clay pipe.

Maurice, with the hunter instinct, watched the flight of an osprey
that was circling the river brink with an eye to dinner; and later
on observed an eagle drop down into a fluttering flock of ducks,
from which he evidently took his usual toll, as presently he flew
heavily away, with some dark object dangling below.

About noon they had a little lunch, Thad making a pot of coffee,
and otherwise the meal was called in local parlance a "snack,"
which would seem to mean a pickup affair that could be eaten
standing if necessary.

They wished to get this duty out of the way, for by the signs it
was believed that they must be approaching Cairo, and as the
junction of the two rivers is a turbulent place, with considerable
craft moving about, the boys considered it wise to have their full
attention fixed upon their movements.

After all, it was a mere nothing--they simply turned a point and
found themselves upon a much wider stretch of water--and this was
the famous Mississippi!

Now they were really heading south, and no matter how much colder
the weather grew, it could not freeze them in and stop their
flight to the desired port.

Just as Maurice had figured, it was two in the afternoon when they
could really and truly say they were afloat on the big river.

In about a couple of hours they began to cast their eyes along the
shore seeking a favorable place to tie up for the coming night--
the mere thought of being adrift upon that immense yellow flood
after sunset was appalling to them, though possibly by degrees
they might become so accustomed to the rolling tide that it would
cease to have the same sensation of alarm for them.

It was almost dark before they discovered a convenient tree close
enough to the water's edge to serve their purpose; for evidently
the river during its periodical seasons of flood had torn nearly
all growth on the lower banks away.

Thad climbed up to this friendly trunk and slipped the cable
around its base.

The boys sat there on deck for some little time watching the last
flickering red die out of the western heavens; and when the
panorama had come to its logical conclusion, with a sigh they
entered the cabin to prepare supper.

In this manner did they spend their first night upon the Father of
Waters, and it was as peaceful as any they ever knew. The river
sang merrily as its little wavelets washed up against the sides of
the shanty-boat, the air was almost balmy in its touch, coming from
the south where the cotton fields and wilderness of pines lay; and
all together the boys felt that they had been exceedingly foolish
to imagine that anything terrible could await them upon the bosom
of this majestic stream.

Ah! wait until the same river is seen under different conditions,
and perhaps the old dread may be revived with redoubled force; for
the Mississippi in the throes of a westerly storm is a sight to
appall the stoutest heart.

When morning came they were soon under way again, and reaching out
for another stretch toward that genial clime that seemed beckoning
them onward.

Now they could notice quite a difference in the stage of the
current, for with the increased volume of water it seemed that
they were being borne onward faster than at any other time in the
past.

All the way down it was policy on their part to hug the eastern
shore; indeed, to attempt to cross that billowing flood with such
a frail craft would have seemed the height of foolishness, both
boys thought, nor would they have any object in so doing.

The river makes many wonderful twists and turns, sometimes seeming
to flow almost due north as it follows its intricate channel; for
it is a law of nature that water always pursues the easiest route,
and seeks its own level.

Maurice had during the morning commented on the balmy feeling in
the air, whereupon the weather sharp, Thad, had warned him
solemnly that there was a great change coming within twenty hours,
perhaps much less, for all signs pointed to cold and windy
weather.

So much faith did Maurice place in this prediction of his chum
that he insisted upon tying up earlier than usual that afternoon
so that they could lay in an abundance of firewood.

It is not often that a weather prophet has so much honor in his
own family, and really Maurice never did a wiser thing in his life
than when he thus provided for a bad spell to come on the strength
of Thad's knowledge of floating clouds and such signs.

For the storm descended upon them that very night, and coming off
the river, gave them something of a fright lest they be wrecked
thus early in their voyage down the big water.

Given two miles of river over which to sweep with fury, and a
forty-mile-an-hour gale can kick up a tremendous sea, besides
penetrating every crack and cranny to be found in a flimsy cabin,
chilling the very marrow of the sleepers.

It was about two in the morning when Maurice awoke to find the
boat pitching violently and himself shivering with cold, for they
had let the fire die out on retiring, such was the heat of the
cabin.

"Hi there, show a leg, Thad. There's something doing, and I rather
reckon your plagued old storm's arrived ahead of time. D'ye want
to freeze to death, boy? Pile out and let's get a fire started.
Then we'd better make sure our cable's going to hold, for if we
broke loose in this howling sea it'd be good-by to our boat,
perhaps to us, too." was the way he brought his chum out of the
bunk, "all standing," rubbing his eyes as the candle which Maurice
had lighted pictured the scene.

Hurriedly dressing while their teeth chattered, the boys started a
blaze in the stove, and after a bit thawed out sufficiently to go
outside, muffled in sweaters and coats, to see what all this
racket meant.

They found a wild scene there, with the waves rushing down the
river most furiously. Already the atmosphere had grown so frigid
that ice was forming on the side of the cabin where this spud and
foam dashed.

Looking out upon the raging waters the boys shivered at the sight,
even with scanty light from the heavenly bodies that were part of
the time obscured behind masses of black clouds.

It was frittering snow, and the prospect of a spell of bad weather
looked very promising.

"Let me catch you making any more predictions of storms; won't
there be trouble headed your way?" shouted Maurice, with mock
severity; whereat the weather sharp laughed and began to feel of
the rope that fastened them to the shore.

"If the wind should change there might be a chance of our being
smashed against the shore here. If it was light I'd say it would
pay us to get the anchor out yonder to kind of hold the boat off;
but to look at that water I don't think our little dinky would
hold out five minutes," continued Maurice, shaking his head.

It was finally concluded to retire to the warmth of the cabin and
wait until the morning broke, when they could decide what should
be done.

For some time they sat there, now dozing by the stove, and anon
starting up as some unusually weird contortion on the part of the
boat gave them the impression that the end had come, and they were
about to be tossed into the raging flood.

Maurice was just sinking into some sort of condition resembling
sleep when there was a sudden wilder rush of wind than at any time
previously.

And as he started up, thrilled with a sensation of coming peril,
he felt a new motion to the shanty-boat that portended trouble.

"The cable's broken, pard, and we're afloat!" he shouted, as the
equally bewildered Thad struggled up alongside him.





CHAPTER VII.

THE TERRORS OF THE STORM.


After that one feeling of horror both the boys recovered more or
less of their ordinary ability to meet danger, and overcome it.

It was Maurice who sprang to the door, and threw it open.

As he pushed out upon the narrow deck of the float he could not
but be appalled by the sight that met his wondering eyes.

Just as he had suspected so strongly, they had broken away from
the anchorage. Doubtless the rope had been frayed by some sharp-
edged stone, and when that unusual gust swooped down upon them it
gave at the weakest part.

Out on the river little could be seen save a jumble of foamy
waters, that seemed to be tumbling wildly over and over, driven by
the furious blast from the north.

Maurice turned his eyes toward the other side, for it was in that
quarter his deepest interest lay.

Back of the clouds there was a pretty good-sized moon still above
the western horizon, so that this helped lighten what would
otherwise have been inky darkness.

Hence, Maurice could make out the tops of the trees on the bank of
the river, as they were outlined against the lighter heavens.

"We're just humming along!" he shouted, as he noticed how the
tree-tops seemed to be constantly shifting, owing to the progress
of the boat downstream.

"The worst of it is we seem to be drifting out all the while!" was
what Thad called, as he, too, sized up the situation.

Both of them knew what this meant.

Once they were swept far out upon the bosom of that madly agitated
flood, and the chances of the gallant old shanty-boat remaining
right-side-up would be very scanty.

"We must fight against that with all our might!" yelled the other,
as he pushed back to where the sweep was to be found. They set to
work with every pound of force they could bring to the front.
Again and again was the long oar dipped into the water, and made
to press against the rush of the current.

"How is it?" gasped Maurice, after they had been employed in this
manner for some five minutes, each sixty seconds filled with
anxiety.

"I think we are about holding our own!" replied Thad.

"Is that all? Then how can we ever get her in nearer the shore?"
demanded his chum, forlornly, as he continued to tug away.

"Have to trust to luck for that," came the immediate reply.

"Tell me how?" implored Maurice, who somehow failed to grasp the
situation quite as accurately as the other.

"The shore lines change constantly, you know."

"Yes, that's so; but we might open up a big pocket at any time, as
soon as strike a point sticking out," suggested Maurice.

"Sure. That's what I meant when I said we'd have to stick
everlastingly at it, and trust to luck for the rest," replied his
comrade.

Perhaps it was because Thad had been up against hard knocks more
than his friends, but one thing was evident--when trouble of this
kind came he seemed able to show a better and more hopeful spirit
than Maurice.

Another short space of time passed.

"Say, this is working our passage all right!" came from Maurice.

"But so long as we hold our own we ain't got a thing to say. And I
think we're doing that, don't you, Maurice?"

"I did a minute ago, but just now it strikes me the trees kind of
look further away."

"That's a fact, they do; but mebbe it's only a little bay before
we strike that point, you know," continued the other lad.

They dared not halt a single minute in their labor, for fear lest
the boat be carried further out on the raging river.

"How are you--feel cold?" asked Thad, a little later.

"Not much--I'm as warm as toast, all but my hands, and they're
freezing. But where's the land, Thad? Can you see anything of
those bully old trees, partner?"

"Mighty little just now; but I'm hoping they ain't going to give
us the shake just yet. That would be mighty mean, when we think so
much of 'em!" said the second willing worker, as he tugged and
strained with all his power.

It really looked more perilous than ever around the bobbing
shanty-boat, which was now being tossed about on the water very
much after the style of a cork.

And if the waves ran so high close to the shore what must they be
far, far out yonder toward the middle of the mighty stream?

Neither of the tugging lads wanted to picture the scene; indeed,
they had all they could manage in considering how the wabbly craft
might be piloted so as to once more hug the friendly shore.

Presently a shout from Maurice, rather feeble it must be
confessed, for he was short of breath just then, announced that he
had made some sort of happy discovery.

"Land! land!" he exclaimed, hoarsely, just as a shipwrecked sailor
on a floating raft might cry as an island hove in sight.

And Thad could easily see the tree-tops again, outlined against
the gray heavens; yes, they were closer than for some time, and to
his excited imagination seemed to be even looming up more and more
positively.

"We're getting there, old chap; give her another good dig, and
follow it up with yet another!" he managed to cry.

"Hurrah! that's the way to do it! Again, my hearty, and all
together with a will! She moves in, Thad; we're going to make the
ripple!"

"Wait!" said the more cautious Thad; "don't shout till you're out
of the woods."

But nevertheless he too seemed to feel that more than half the
battle was won, since they had passed over a wide bayou without
any accident, and were now once again close to the land.

How eagerly their young eyes hung upon those shifting tree-tops,
as they hurried by; never before had the dry land seemed quite so
glorious as at that particular moment; and they felt that it would
be a happy event if they could but plant their feet again on it.

Maurice knew something of the river, but Thad had studied the
oddities of the Ohio for many a moon, while living upon its
breast.

He knew, for instance, that when a bayou was struck the chances
were there would be a point of land jutting out immediately below
it, formed by the dirt swept out by the erratic current.

And this was just what he was hoping to find now.

Of course the swift tide would never allow them to land on the
upper side of that cape; but if they could only take advantage of
its inward sweep beyond, they might succeed in getting into
comparatively still water, where the anchor would hold.

They fought "tooth and nail," as Thad said, to accomplish such a
result.

"We're passing the point!" shouted Maurice, ending with a groan.

"Keep working! The current sets in just below, and we want to ride
along with it," answered his chum.

Then Maurice saw a great light, and realized what his comrade had
in mind.

"The trees are further away!" he could not help saying.

"Yes, but the water ain't near so sassy; don't you see how we are
pushing the old tub in closer all the while? When I say the word
you jump for the anchor, and let her slide!"

"Oh!"

Maurice was encouraged to work again with renewed vigor, for hope
had once more found a lodgment in his soul.

Hardly had ten seconds passed before the voice of Thad rang out
above the clamor of the wind, and the breaking of the waves
against the stern of the laboring shanty-boat.

"Now! do it!"

And Maurice, dropping away from the sweep, made a hasty jump for
the place where the anchor and its cable lay.

In his haste he must have made a misstep, for suddenly Thad saw
him stumble and vanish over the side into the boiling waters of
the Mississippi!

A feeling of horror shot through the heart of the boy as he thus
witnessed the catastrophe that had overtaken his chum.

He forgot all necessity for remaining on guard at the sweep, in
order to prevent the boat from being carried out; but abandoning
his trust he sprang toward the spot where he had last seen
Maurice.

Throwing himself down on his chest he endeavored to penetrate the
almost inky darkness that rested upon the water at that particular
place.

But not a thing could he see at first; it was as though those
treacherous waters had swallowed up his friend forever!

And just then he became aware of the fact that there was a sudden
change in the movement of the shanty-boat, which instead of
continuing to whirl down-stream seemed to be brought to a stop,
and was tugging violently at some object that persisted in
restraining her onward progress!

THE ANCHOR!

Yes, in his plunge Maurice must have knocked this over the side,
and the heavy object, swiftly reaching bottom in that shallow
spot, had brought the wild cruise of the craft to an abrupt
conclusion.

But Maurice--dear would the safety of the old boat have been
purchased, had he been swept away, to be possibly drowned in the
flood, encumbered as he was with all his clothes.

"Wow!"

Thad heard this sound, although he could see nothing; and a thrill
shot through him at the consciousness that it must have been made
by his chum.

"Where are you, Maurice?" he shrilled, eager to lend what
assistance lay in his limited power.

"Holding on to the cable of the anchor, and swallowing a pint of
yellow stuff every breath!" came back in broken sentences, as
though the speaker might be ejecting some of the surplus fluid
whenever the opportunity offered.

So Thad gripped the rope and tried to shorten the extent of its
holding; but he found this a greater task than he had bargained
for, and indeed, utterly impossible, with all that sweep of the
river to buck against him.

"Wait! it's all right, and I'm coming!" he again heard the other
say; and this time it seemed as though the voice must be much
closer.

Then he caught his first glimpse of Maurice, amid all the foam in
the rear of the boat, where the onrushing flood failed to start
the anchored craft from her moorings.

In another minute he could reach out a helping hand, which being
seized upon by the imperiled lad, Maurice was soon brought close
enough, to admit of his climbing over the low gunwale.

"Gee! that was a close shave, though!" he gasped, as he sat up,
the water pouring from him in rivulets.

Thad was pumping his hand like a machine, and almost crying in his
hysterical delight.

"Oh! you gave me an awful scare, old fellow, you sure did! I
thought you was a goner, and felt like jumping in, too, myself. It
would be mighty tough to lose you, Maurice, mighty tough!" he kept
saying as he squeezed the other's hand.

"Well, a miss is as good as a mile; and the only thing I'm
thinking of just now is a way to get warm. My teeth are rattling
together like the dickens. It was just comfortable in the water;
but this air cuts through me like a knife!" said Maurice, getting
up on his knees.

"You must go inside at once, and I'll have the fire booming in a
jiffy. Never mind the boat; I reckon that rope will hold us here
all right till morning. When you are warm I'm going to come out
and see if I can put another anchor of some sort over. We've got a
rope and that fine big stone, you know. Shoo, now, and get into
the coop, you!"

In this fashion did Thad chase his chum indoors.

He busied himself with the fire, and it was not long before he had
the interior of the cabin feeling comfortable.

And while the boat pitched and plunged, yet seemed to hold her own
against the raging storm, Maurice changed his clothes, and was
presently feeling none the worse for his involuntary bath.

Long before this the other had slipped out to fulfill his
programme with regard to the second anchor.





CHAPTER IX.

GOOD OLD MARLIN.


When Thad came in later on he declared that the chances were now
that the boat would hold her own during the balance of that stormy
night.

"Always providing," he added, with due caution, "that it don't get
any worse, and the wind shift to the northeast, which would be bad
for us here."

So they started in again to try and keep watch-and-watch, one
securing a little sleep while the other stood guard.

It was only a poor makeshift at best, for what Maurice called
"cat-naps" were the best they could do at any time.

That night would not soon be forgotten by the boys, for it seemed
to be about forty hours long.

And as time crept on at a snail pace the howling of the wintry
gale continued unabated, with the roar of the wind through the
tree-tops ashore, the dash of the waves on the point above, and
the constant wabbling motion of the shanty-boat to remind them of
their peril.

It may have been a couple of hours before the time for morning to
come along that Thad, after a trip of investigation outside,
returned with some news.

"Wind's shifted!" he announced, as he came staggering in again.

Maurice jumped up.

"Then we ought to get busy if we don't want to be dragged out of
this comfortable pocket again!" he exclaimed.

"Hold on, old fellow; you don't catch on. The wind has taken a
notion to back into the west, and is now whooping it up from
across the old Mississip," said the other, sinking into a seat,
and holding both shivering hands out to the cheery blaze.

"Oh! that's a different thing. I reckon then we're more in danger
of going ashore, than being sent adrift again," admitted Maurice.

"I guess the anchors are good to hold, if only we don't get banged
on a nasty rock. I've got a notion there are a lot around here,
even if we can't see 'em. But the chances don't amount to much;
and it's me for another little snooze."

With which Thad sought his bunk, and bundled in "all standing" in
sea parlance, not even removing his boots, for he did not know but
that he might have to turn out at any moment.

But the next thing he knew was when a most appetizing odor came
stealing to his sense of smell, and he realized that his chum was
cooking breakfast.

"Hello, there, going to have a midnight meal?" queried Thad,
drowsily, as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Whereupon the other stepped to the little window, raised the shade
and allowed the awakened sleeper to see that dawn was at hand,
gray and forbidding, but daylight all the same.

"Well, all I can say, pard, is, that I'm mighty glad to see her
come along. That was the most ding-dong night I ever spent, for a
fact. And I guess I dreamed about you going in swimming with all
your duds on, too. That was what woke me up just now with a jump."

Thad crawled out, stretching and yawning.

"Oh! you'll feel better after you've had a little coffee, and some
bacon. Nothing like a hot breakfast to tone a fellow up after a
bad night like that," remarked the cook, cheerily, as he started
to transfer the various things from the stove to their table, with
its clean white oilcloth cover.

Thad went outside to take an observation.

He found the storm still busy, and the sight out on the river was
quite discouraging to a boy who wanted to get along toward the
blamy Southland as speedily as possible.

Still, they had indeed much to be thankful for, with that snug
craft to serve as a refuge while the gale lasted, plenty to eat
aboard, and a supply of wood within reach.

"I guess the little dinghy would live between here and the shore,"
he remarked, as he came in presently.

"What's in the wind now?" demanded Maurice, already pouring out
the amber liquid into the brace of tin cups that served them just
as well as the dainty aluminum ones sported by some canoeists they
had once known in their Kentucky home town.

"Well, you see, our wood isn't apt to hold out all day; and
besides, there's another night coming for us in this place. One of
us must go ashore later on and do some chopping."

"That'll be me, then, to start with. I'd like to get a few of the
kinks out of my arms. Here, squat down, and begin work with that
mess. Plenty more where that came from, and no bill to settle."

In this manner did the early morning meal progress, for the boys,
having survived the perils of the night, were feeling quite like
themselves again.

True to his promise, about nine o'clock as near as they could
judge, Maurice climbed down into the dinghy, taking with him their
only ax.

Thad had even been careful enough to fasten this with a piece of
rope-end to the single thwart in the dump boat.

"If you should have a turn-over the blooming thing don't know
enough to swim, like you do; and to lose it just now would put us
in a fine old pickle," he explained, when Maurice joked him about
the solicitude he was showing.

"That's it," remarked the occupant of the dinghy, as he balanced
himself carefully in sitting down; "it might be hard to buy
another ax down along here, and one as good as this daisy. Now,
when I say the word, give me a dandy push, will you?"

"All right," and Thad braced himself for the exertion.

"I suppose it will be harder coming out again, with a load of
wood. I'm glad you thought of that bully old scheme of dragging
some of it aboard with a rope," said Maurice, taking up the
paddle.

"I'll pay out the painter as you go along," remarked the one who
was to remain on board the larger craft.

"Push!"

Having been given a fine start he plied his blade, and rapidly the
little boat drew near the adjacent shore.

No accident befell Maurice, and he was able to land safely; after
which he drew his small craft well up on the beach, before
climbing the abrupt bank just beyond, by means of protruding roots
of trees.

Thad listened until he heard the steady blows of the ax; and then
he went back to some work he had been doing at the time.

It might have been about half an hour later that he suddenly
caught what seemed to be an angry bark from the shore; and as the
sound appeared to come directly from that quarter where he
remembered Maurice had been at work, he immediately became quite
concerned.

The sound came again almost immediately, and seemed even more
savage than before. Following it he caught the voice of his pard
raised in anger.

"Get out, you rascal! Hi! there, what d'ye mean jumping at me like
that! Keep off, or I'll give you a dig with the ax. D'ye hear, you
big fool?"

Apparently Maurice was in some sort of trouble, and as near as the
boy on the shanty-boat could understand he had been attacked by
some roving animal that had taken a fancy to try and assault the
strange woodchopper.

Thad jumped into the cabin and came out with the little Marlin in
his hands; but then he realized how utterly impotent he was to
give his beleaguered chum a helping hand just then.

The boiling water lay between him and that shore for a distance of
perhaps thirty feet or more; nor was it possible for even his
sanguine spirit to bridge it.

True, there was the dinghy on the little beach, and the cable
attached to its stern ran all the way to the larger boat, so that
it was possible for him to tug away, and eventually bring it
alongside.

Should he try it?

The sounds had grown even more furious, as though Maurice and the
unseen dog might be engaged in something resembling a regular
circus.

Suppose he pulled the dinghy away from the shore, and just then
his chum appeared, eager to throw himself into it, his
disappointment would be terrible.

But all the same Thad could not stand there helpless and listen to
that terrible racket going on.

Why, for all he knew, poor old Maurice might be in hard luck, with
the teeth of a savage hound threatening his very life.

And so Thad made up his mind in a hurry, for he was not the one to
hesitate when an emergency called for speedy action.

He had laid the Marlin down on the deck, and applied both hands to
the task of getting the small boat across that intervening stretch
of water as quickly as human means could accomplish the job.

If anything was needed to urge him on to unusual haste it might
have easily been found in the continual confusion of shouts,
laughter, barks, and general confusion existing ashore.

Swiftly the tender of the shanty-boat came spinning through the
water, until in a short time it bumped against the side.

Thad waited only long enough to deposit his precious gun in the
bottom, and then crawling over the side himself, he seized upon
the paddle, and dipped deeply.

No doubt he made the shore in much less time than it took Maurice;
for there was need that he should.

The noise continued, from which Thad drew new hope; at least his
beloved chum could not have been seriously injured, for just then
he could almost positively declare that he heard him laugh again.

So there was a comical side to the adventure, it would seem.

Thad was in such a hurry to reach the spot that he must needs make
an unfortunate miscalculation when attempting to climb up the
steep bank, or else a root upon which he depended proved false to
his trust.

However that might be the boy fell back again, landing in a heap
at the base of the little bluff.

Taking warning from his mishap that speed is not always an
indication of ultimate success, Thad became a little more careful;
and as a consequence he soon had the satisfaction of finding
himself on the top of the river bank.

Here Maurice had piled quite some wood, which doubtless he
calculated fastening to the spare rope, so that it could be
dragged aboard once he had joined his chum.

Smaller stuff he would stow away in the tender, and thus avoid
getting the same wet.

But Thad was not bothering his head about the wood just then; he
could still hear the barking, and the voice of his friend not far
away, accompanied by various mysterious sounds that seemed to
resemble the dropping of a heavy body on the ground.

So he gripped the gun and began to move forward, steeling his
nerves for any sort of surprise possible.

In this fashion he presently reached what seemed to be a little
glade, where at some time in the dim past the trees had gone down,
either in a hurricane or before a settler's ax.

Then the show was before him!

His attention was immediately attracted to a moving object that
continued to leap upward with wriggling movements, and then fall
back again to the ground, to obtain new footing and try again.

And each attempt was being greeted by disdainful remarks from
Maurice, who could be seen dangling his legs some seven feet or so
up in a friendly tree.

Thad breathed freer.

He knew now that his chum had been wise enough to take refuge
among the branches of this tree when he lost hold of the ax with
which he had been defending himself.

And since he seemed so very merry now, it was evident that he had
not been badly injured by the teeth of the brute.

Thad began to push his Marlin forward, as though he might mean
business from the start.

He did not fancy the looks of the big dog, which was of a dingy
yellow-color, and as large as a two-month-old calf.

Possibly he belonged to some farmer within a mile or so of the
spot; or it might be that he was a stray beast, drawn back to the
original state of his kind by the call of the wild.

Thad did not try to find out, and indeed, there was no possible
way in which he could ascertain, since the dog could not talk.

Maurice had apparently become aware of his presence, for just then
he called out.

"Take care, Thad, he's a holy terror of a brute. If you shoot be
sure you get him, or he'll jump you like he did me. He's mad clear
through. Hi! look out. he's scented you and he's coming!"

Thad needed no warning, for he had been watching the big buff dog
every second of the time.

He dropped on one knee, and threw the Marlin up to his shoulder
with a resolute air. Thad could hardly be said to be an expert
shot, for his opportunities to go out hunting had never been very
numerous; still, he possessed nerve, and could aim straight,
which, after all, were qualities standing him in better stead just
then than experience.

The beast was coming all right, there could be no doubt about
that; and his appearance, with that hair bristling along above his
shoulders, was anything but pacifying.

To the kneeling lad the rush of a lion in the African wilds could
not have seemed more fierce.

He waited just three seconds, until Maurice, fearing that his chum
might be almost paralyzed with fright, gave a shriek to startle
him into action.

But Thad had done the wise thing after all; he wanted the dog to
get close enough to warrant the bird-shot to possess all the
deadly attributes of a bullet.

Of course there was more danger of his missing entirely; but
Thad's mind was fully made up that he just could not and would not
do any thing of the sort.

Then his finger pressed first one trigger, and almost
simultaneously the other, of the double-barrel.

The deafening report was accompanied by what seemed to be a
piercing yelp or two, after which there was silence.

Maurice had jumped down out of his tree as soon as the shots told
that there was no further danger of his being hit by any stray
leaden pellet; and seizing upon the handy ax he bounced across the
glade toward the scene of hostilities.

"Thad!" he shouted eagerly, as he ran, waving the ax in the air,
and ready to resume the battle, if so be it seemed necessary.

"All right here, old hoss!" came the cheery answer, that made the
other experience immediate relief.

And then Maurice looked toward the spot where he had had his last
glimpse of his late enemy.

Something was moving amid the snow that covered the ground.

"You got him, Thad; he's kicking his last!" yelled the excited
Maurice, as he gazed with distended eyes at the feeble struggles
that marked the passing of the powerful brute.

By the time the marksman had reached the spot the animal had given
up the ghost; but even in death he presented a ferocious aspect
that made Maurice shiver.

"Phew! that was an exciting little time," he said, wiping his
forehead, as though somewhat overheated by his recent exertions.

"Where d'ye suppose he came from?" asked the other, as he bent
over the victim of the steady-shooting gun, and shrugged his
shoulders at sight of the bared white teeth, so wicked in
appearance.

"I don't know. Looks to me like he might be a wild dog; but
perhaps he belongs to some shanty-boat crowd below here. I wouldn't
be too ready to tell about this until we're well away. It might
breed trouble for us, you see," said Maurice, sagely.

"But he tackled you without cause, and any fellow is allowed to
defend himself," expostulated the other.

"That's good logic, generally; but the owner of the dog never
looks at things from the right side. He'd blame you for shooting,
and say we ought to have chased the beast off with pea-shooters.
Well, he kept me jumping right lively up to the time I lost my
grip on this old ax. Then I got up in that blessed tree, though
I'll never know just how I did the trick. H'm! that old gun of
mine is some shooter, ain't she? My! how you knocked a hole in the
critter. That was going some, for you. Thad, don't you forget it,
son."

Now that he was ashore Thad assisted in getting the wood down to
the edge of the water.

Here some of it was fastened to a spare rope which could be
carried out to the floating boat, when the firewood might be
hauled aboard.

Thad paddled out first, so as to draw the laden dinghy after him;
then Maurice used the second rope to get it back ashore, loaded it
with the results of his chopping, after which the other did his
part.

In this fashion the entire amount of fuel was finally taken
aboard.

"I think we have enough to last us for some time now," remarked
Maurice, after he had in the end allowed Thad to draw him out just
as the cargoes of wood had been taken aboard.

And as Thad once more pushed a couple of shells into the chambers
of the little old Marlin he shook his head, observing:

"I'd hate to think what would have happened if I'd just missed
that ugly customer when I pulled those triggers. For he was coming
at me like a house afire, and with blood in his eyes. But, I
didn't, all the same, and what's the use bothering over it? Is the
storm going down any, d'ye think, Maurice?"

But Maurice could not say that it was in the least.





CHAPTER X.

"NOT TODAY," SAID THAD.


"I wonder how long this measly old storm is going to keep us
here?" Maurice was saying, that afternoon, as he stood on the
after-deck of the anchored shanty-boat, and looked at the wild
scene out on the raging river.

They had seen not a sign of life thus far around them, since dawn.
Even the few boats moving at this late season of the year on the
Father of Waters seemed to have been bottled up in such harbors as
could be found conveniently near at the time the storm broke
loose.

"You called me a weather sharp because I said it was due; and now
you want me to give a guess about the end--is that it, Maurice?"
asked the other, smiling.

"Well, if you can hit it as good this time, and encourage a poor
ship-wrecked mariner I'd be obliged."

"Say, it ain't as bad as that. We've got a lot to be thankful for,
I reckon, with this bully old boat to hold us, and keep out the
cold. For one you don't hear me kicking," returned Thad,
earnestly.

"Oh! come off; you know mighty well that I'm the last boy to run
up the white flag. Everything's lovely, and the goose hangs high;
anyhow, it will later on if I get a crack at one on a sandbar
further down the river. But what do you think of the prospects for
clearing?" went on Maurice, turning to his chum.

"Not good for anything today. P'raps the old storm will blow
itself out tonight, and in the morning we may drop out of here.

"Oh! well, it's too late now to think of going on today, so after
all it don't matter much We can pull some more wood on board
before night, and laugh at the cold," remarked Maurice.

"Perhaps we'd better be doing it right away, then," observed Thad,
with a glance at the west; "for dark comes sudden like at this
time of year, you know."

"All right. Get the ax and I'll see to the gun, Thad."

"Thinking of more dogs, eh?"

"Well, no; to tell the truth I had the master of one dog in my
mind right then," came the reply, as Maurice entered the cabin to
take the Marlin off the hook on the wall.

Thad looked a bit thoughtful, but said nothing.

Perhaps they were not so very far away from some shanty-boat that
had sought refuge in a friendly cove from the gale; and he knew
the general habit of these floating people was to harbor at least
one dog to each craft, sometimes half a dozen.

That gun might come in handy should they find themselves
confronted by an angry dog owner, demanding the reason why they
had shot his canine property.

So they left their home craft, and paddled ashore in the little
tender, one at a time.

The ax was soon at work, and the chips flying under the lusty
strokes of both boys by turns.

Thad had been more or less impressed by what his chum said. While
Maurice worked with the ax he managed to sit by the fire they had
started, seemingly to keep warm, but in reality because the
shotgun had been leaned against a neighboring tree.

And ordinarily Thad was far from being timid by nature; so that it
must have been some sort of prophetic warning that bade him stick
to the camp.

"Guess we've got about enough, eh, Thad?" demanded the other, as
he threw the tool down, and breathing heavily, sat alongside his
chum on the convenient log near the blaze.

"As much as we can get aboard, anyhow. With night only an hour off
the quicker we begin to navigate the better for us. Here goes,"
and with that Thad started to carry the chopped wood down to where
the small boat awaited its cargo.

They were busily engaged in doing this, and had really managed to
get most of the fuel aboard, with Maurice pulling from the deck of
the anchored craft, and his chum doing the work ashore, when Thad
heard crunching footsteps above the spot where he crouched.

Looking up he saw a bearded face thrust out from the bank; and
almost instinctively he knew that the prediction of his companion
was about to come true.

Was this the owner of the dead brute that lay not more than eighty
or one hundred feet away?

Thad felt a sudden cold chill. He was certainly not a coward by
nature, and had proved this at various times in the past; still,
there was an ugly scowl on that red-bearded face that surely stood
for new trouble.

And Thad was glad that he had insisted upon keeping the gun ashore
with him while he performed his end of the duty of transporting
the wood to the shanty-boat.

He also remembered that it was close beside him, where he could
lay a hand on it quickly if need be.

Then the man spoke, and his voice was just as disagreeable as his
face seemed to be--a heavy rumble with more or less of threat
under the surface.

"So, here ye be, hey? Wot business hed yer ter shoot up my dawg;
tell me that, consarn ye?"

Perhaps he said something much stronger than the concluding words;
but that does not matter.

Thad gave the signal to his chum to pull, for he had the last of
the wood stocked in the dinghy. Then he turned his attention to
the man who had addressed him.

If his face was white it was only natural; but his voice did not
quiver in the least.

"I admit that I shot the dog. He was trying to kill my friend, who
was busy cutting wood. I'd do it again, and so would any one. What
business have you letting such a savage dog loose?"

Even while talking he edged a trifle toward the spot where the gun
was standing against the bank. The man might take a notion to
slide down, with the intention of attacking him, and Thad wanted
to make sure of his line of defense, like a wise general always
should.

"Hey! wot's thet ye say? I got a boat just a leettle way below
hyer, an' my dorg's got a right ter run loose. Ye owns up ye
shooted ther pore critter, does yer? I gotter a notion right now
ter give yer sumpin ter pay back fur wot ye done!"

He actually threw himself over the edge of the little bluff, being
angered by such talk on the part of a boy.

Maurice gave a shout from the boat.

"Look out, there, what you're doing, or I'll shoot you full of
holes!" was what he whooped; but since the only weapon they
possessed was at that moment ashore it can be understood that he
was only seeking to fill the man with sudden consternation.

Perhaps it did work to some extent, for the big fellow rather
hesitated as he cast an apprehensive glance out toward the shanty-
boat.

Those few seconds were worth much to Thad.

He had started for the place where the gun stood, and which,
unfortunately, happened to be close to where the man had landed.
Indeed, had the fellow been aware of the fact in the beginning he
might easily have cut Thad off from his coveted weapon.

But knowing the absolute necessity for obtaining a grip on the
Marlin, the boy plunged forward, regardless of the fact that in so
doing he had to advance toward the enemy.

His aggressive movement rather puzzled the other, until he saw the
gun leaning there against the bank. Then he gave a howl, and also
projected his bulk forward, evidently with the expectation of
reaching the firearm first.

But he was just three seconds too late.

Thad snatched the weapon up, and drawing back both hammers, held
it in a threatening attitude.

"Keep back, there, or I'll do the same to you I did to your dog!"
cried the excited but resolute boy.

The fellow saw something in the attitude of the lad to give him
cause for prudence; and he immediately drew up, throwing out both
hands in a sudden spasm of alarm.

"Hi! hold on thar, sonny, don't ye pull them triggers hard! It'd
be jest murder, 'cause I ain't got nary weepon by me, I swar. I
didn't go ter mean any thin' hard. Corse ye done right ter shoot
the ornery dawg if he war atryin' ter eat yer pard up. Yuh see I
didn't know ther hull facts in ther case, I didn't. Let up easy,
now, bub; drap thet gun, won't yer?" he whined.

"Don't do it, Thad!" shouted Maurice, dancing about on the deck of
the flat in his excitement; "don't you trust him an inch, I tell
you! Make him vamoose the ranch--tell him to clear out, or you'll
pepper his hide."

But Thad needed no such entreaty on the part of his chum to know
only too well that not the slightest reliance could be placed on
the honor of such a rough customer.

He continued to cover the man.

"If you take one step this way I'll let fly!" he said,
impressively.

"But I ain't holdin' no grudge agin you-uns now 'bout thet dawg.
Reckons it's better the critter's got his, 'cause the missus sez
as how he acted like he wos agwine mad," expostulated the man; but
there was a gleam in his eyes that Thad did not like, and he would
not take chances.

"All right, if that's the case; but all the same you threatened
me, and I'm not going to trust you close. Just back up along the
beach, and if you make the first move to do anything I'm going to
shoot. Now, twenty-three for yours, mister, skidoo! We don't want
your company; not today," said Thad.

The man looked at him. He must have seen something in the
determined manner of the lad to influence him in reaching a
decision. That boy would keep his word; he was ready to shoot if
crossed; and the way in which he had killed the brute of a dog
proved his skill with the gun he was fondling now.

"Oh! all right, bub, I'll clear out, if yuh sez so; but if I ever
get a chanct tuh even up this hyer score I'm gwine tuh do hit,
sure's yer born!"

He moved away, muttering, and looking angrily toward the lad; but
not once did the latter show signs of weakening.

When the big fellow had vanished from sight, Thad hastened to draw
the dinghy, which Maurice had hastily emptied, back to the beach.

"Just sit in it and keep an eye toward the bank, Thad," sang out
the chum on the boat, "and leave it to me to drag you out here.
That chap means mischief, unless I'm mistaken."

Since his own thoughts coincided with those expressed by Maurice,
Thad was satisfied to obey instructions. He squatted low in the
small craft, handled the gun in a way that any one ashore could
not help seeing, and kept watch along the line.

When he was almost there he saw the man break cover, almost
directly opposite, and could even note the look of disappointment
on his face as he discovered how the boy had eluded his clutches.

He shouted out something which neither of them wholly understood;
but there could be no mistaking the ugly manner in which that fist
was shaken toward them.

"Don't notice him, and he'll go away soon. It's getting dusk
already, you know, and cold enough to freeze his red nose."

Maurice proved to be something of a prophet, for sure enough
presently the man, finding that his derisive words met with no
response, concluded that lingering in the vicinity did not pay.

"There, he's gone," announced Thad, finally.

"A good riddance of bad rubbish," echoed his chum.

"I hope we don't have visitors in the night," remarked Thad.

"Um; so that is what was on your mind. Well, now, I hardly think
that fellow, or any of his crowd will have the nerve to come here
and try to swim out to us; and you see they can't get aboard any
other way, having no boat. Still--"

"You mean that we had better be on the safe side, and keep watch?"
suggested Thad.

"I was just going to say something along that style. It wouldn't
be a bad idea, you know."

"Well, I always did believe that it's better to keep from getting
a cold, than to be able to cure one."

But evidently the man must have determined that, with a gun in
their possession, the boys were not to be easily taken by
surprise, for he did not show up during the entire night, much to
the relief of both young shanty-boat cruisers.

Perhaps he had no companions to back him up in a desperate
enterprise; or it may be that the comforts of his own cabin
appealed too much to him on this stormy night.

Be the cause what it might, both lads were satisfied to have the
night pass without any alarm; though several times when Thad was
on guard some prowling raccoon or skunk on the shore gave him
cause to fancy that the anticipated trouble was on the point of
breaking loose.

Who the man was, and what manner of boat he possessed neither of
them ever knew; for they caught no glimpse of any craft just below
their stopping place when eventually the chance came to continue
the voyage.





CHAPTER XI.

NEARING THE SUNNY SOUTH.


During the second night the storm began to die away, and when
another dawn came the sun actually shone, though the country
looked bleak and cold under the blanket of snow that had fallen.

Just as soon as it was advisable they broke away from their
holding ground and once more started down the river, which was
still pretty rough; but both boys were so sick and tired of that
place they wanted to leave it for new scenes.

They were a little anxious lest in some way the rough owner of
that miserable dog would bob up and give them trouble, and not
until some miles had been navigated did they breathe freely.

And every mile they put behind them meant that they were so much
closer to the genial sunny South, of which they had heard so much.
After this frigid experience they were of the opinion that they
could not reach that balmy region any too soon to suit them.

During the day the wind went down, and when afternoon was waning
they sighted the town of Hickman, which was not a great distance
from the Tennessee line--the mere mention of this fact caused Thad
to give a cheer.

Now, they knew that it was not advisable to stop long at any river
town, for fear of trouble with some of the rougher element that
haunted the docks, but as some of their supplies had become low,
and needed replenishing, they drew in, and Maurice went ashore to
make a purchase, while Thad guarded the boat.

Contrary to their fears nothing happened to give them cause for
alarm, and as for the fellows around the landing, Thad found them
about on a par with the usual loungers, good-natured chaff
predominating. Indeed, one of them even made him a present of a
little yellow cur that had a pair of bright eyes and an
affectionate muzzle, which tickled Thad immensely, he had longed
so much for a pet.

They got away from Hickman at a quarter to four, with a clear sky
and frosty atmosphere that promised good sailing weather on the
morrow.

The yellow dog was immediately named Dixie, and took to his new
title from the start, being a lively little chap, full of fun, and
as frisky as they make them.

He promised to be great company for the boys, and something of a
watchdog, too, when the occasion warranted it, for his sharp bark
upon hearing any foreign sound was enough to arouse the heaviest
sleeper.

Thad declared he would now be able to sleep with both eyes shut,
for up to this time he had been compelled to keep one half open.

Just as Maurice feared they failed to find any place at which to
tie up as darkness came on, and it looked as though they would
finally have to depend on their anchor and a stout cable.

As they slowly floated along close to the shore Thad's sharp eyes
finally detected an opening, which looked very much as though some
stream entered the river at this point, and upon pushing in to
investigate they found that it was indeed so.

And so they rested comfortably after all, though Maurice was a
little fearful lest they be paid a visit by some of the rough
characters floating around the levee at Hickman, and who would
suppose the little shanty-boat could not have gone many miles
down-stream before pulling up for the night.

Fortunately for their peace of mind this did not happen. Perhaps
it was the cold night that deterred them, or it may have been that
Thad had made friends with the Hickman fellows--no matter, they
saw nothing of visitors, and in the morning got away in grand
style, with Dixie barking a farewell to the creek that had served
them so well as a harbor of refuge.

So they continued on their voyage, always making progress when it
was at all possible; and with each day's setting sun drawing
nearer the goal of their hopes, the great city on the lower
Mississippi, where Maurice was to meet his uncle, and speak a good
word for his chum.

It took them a full week to reach Memphis, for they had poor days
as well as good ones, and there were various causes to delay them.

Maurice found a chance to use his gun again one evening when they
had tied up in a convenient cove. It seemed that the ducks had a
liking for that very spot and from tune to time a little flock
would come spinning around the point with the intention of
alighting there, where they would be protected from the strong
wind that was blowing outside.

As soon as he discovered what was going on Maurice snatched up his
gun and with a belt of shells dropped into the dinghy, paddling
over to the point, where he landed, and hiding among some bushes
awaited events.

They were not long in coming either, for in less than five minutes
a venturesome band of half a dozen teal came swinging in. Too late
they saw the boat tied up in the cove, and wheeled to depart, when
there was a bang! bang! and several concluded to defer their
departure.

Out came Maurice, and paddling around he picked up three birds, to
the immense delight of Thad, who issued from the cabin at the
sound of the reports, and of course executed one of his
incomparable hornpipes on the deck at the prospect of another
round of game for dinner.

But Maurice was not yet done; this was pretty fair for a start,
but there should be more to follow; so he once again ensconced
himself in the bushes and waited.

His patience was rewarded, for in less than another five minutes
more birds began to head in, and he was kept busy banging away,
with such success that after the battle was over eight lay upon
the still water of the bayou, while several more had floated off
down the stream.

Not wishing to let any get away after shooting them, the young
sportsman put out in chase in his dinghy, and succeeded in finding
two; meanwhile Thad, with one of the poles, succeeded in
retrieving five of those in the lagoon.

Altogether it was a banner evening, and no wonder they felt joyful
as they sat around the late supper; for Thad, with his mouth
watering, so he said, for duck, insisted upon preparing a couple
right away.

It is not often a fellow can make a fine meal from a duck that two
hours previous has been plunging through the atmosphere from the
north with a speed of possibly eighty miles an hour; but all
manner of things may come to pass to those who voyage down the
mighty Mississippi on a shanty-boat.

The night in this secluded cove was another pleasant experience
which they must always look back to with delight; so it is a
cruise of this sort is marked by its red and white stones, the one
indicating trouble, the other joy unspeakable.

Maurice was not yet done with his business as a provider of viands
for the table, and going ashore as the moonlight tempted him, gun
in hand, he prowled around and presently had his suspicions
confirmed, for he came upon a fat 'possum that yielded up the
ghost at the summons of the Marlin gun.

Thad nearly had a fit when he saw what his chum was bringing
aboard.

Once he had tasted the animal when with some darkies in the brush
--they had gone 'coon hunting with a pack of dogs and unexpectedly
running across a 'possum Thad was fortunate enough to get a few
bites of the animal when done--it struck his fancy and he had
never forgotten the sweet morsel.

"I bet you had that rascal in mind when you bought those sweet
potatoes from the coon yesterday at Memphis," he declared, shaking
his forefinger at the other.

Maurice pleaded innocent of the charge, and declared that the only
one in the party at all able to prophesy regarding the weather or
anything else was Thad himself.

"All the same I imagine they'll just about fit the crime, and
tomorrow we'll see how you can get up a real Southern dinner. Now
that we are entering Dixieland we must pay more attention to the
fads that these people cater to, and 'possum heads the list,"
remarked Maurice, holding the plump animal up so that they could
admire his proportions.

The way the little yellow dog jumped and barked made them suspect
that he knew something about hunting 'coons and 'possum and indeed
there are few canines in the South that do not; so Maurice
declared that if the chance ever came he meant to try Dixie in
that capacity.

There was one good thing about this voyage, and that was the fact
of the ever moving current of the river--so long as they kept in
its swing they could count on being wafted closer and closer to
their destination.

What they had to beware of were the many false channels that led
nowhere; or else after winding in and out for ten miles brought
the traveler out upon the main stream just a mile below where he
entered.

Closely each night Maurice studied his chart and at the same time
kept in mind the warning he had received that this map was likely
to prove wrong in many cases, so quickly does the mighty current
cut new channels along its course.





CHAPTER XII.

THE LOST TRAP.


It was a quiet evening.

Outside, the moon was just creeping up over the trees, and shining
from a cold looking sky.

Out upon the broad river the current swept past with its constant
gurgle and swish, ever heading into the mysterious Southland,
which our boys yearned to reach.

Maurice was doing some sort of writing at the table, by the light
of the only lantern they possessed, and which did not afford any
too generous a light.

Thad was rummaging about, looking everywhere for a steel trap he
had once possessed, and which now seemed strangely missing.

"I wanted to try it ashore the worst kind tonight, because I've
never stopped thinking of that fine 'possum we had; and from the
signs where we picked up our wood I'm just dead sure a family of
the ringtails hold out," he was saying, as he turned things over,
and looked in the most inaccessible corners.

Thad was gifted with a streak of stubbornness; when he wanted
anything badly he hated to give it up the worst kind.

Consequently, although he had apparently hunted that whole cabin
over from one end to the other, he kept "nosing around," as his
cruising mate observed, rooting here and there, and muttering his
disgust.

"I've been told that there's such a thing as putting a thing away
too carefully, and now I believe it," remarked Maurice, as he
looked up for the tenth time to see the other bending far over,
and actually pawing into a dark hole under the sheathing of the
cabin side.

"But you remember seeing that trap after we started?" complained
Thad.

"Sure I have; but since that early day you must have tucked it
away in some place that's just disappeared. Joking aside, I wonder
if it was that thing fell overboard the other day when you were
romping about the deck with Dixie?" continued Maurice, as if a new
idea had come to him.

Thad had a broad grin on his face as he turned around, still on
his knees.

"What's this?" he remarked, holding some object up.

"Well, now," drawled the other, in his Kentucky way, "looks to me
like it might be a trap; and since we only had one aboard it must
be the missing muskrat gripper. Where'd you hit it?"

"In this blessed hole, and for the life of me I don't remember
ever putting it in there. If I did it must have been while I was
asleep and dreaming."

"Sure you didn't expect to get a rat, and try and call it a bally
'possum? Hey! what are you after now? Expect to find the mate to
it perhaps. Think traps grow from seed like corn?" Maurice
exclaimed, as he saw the other once more thrust his arm into the
hole.

"Why, I tell you this ain't the trap I had at all. Must have been
one poor old The Badgeley owned. P'raps he kept his traps in here.
Say, wouldn't it open your eyes some now if I pulled out a second
one of the same? Now, what d 'ye think of that?"

"I declare if it isn't another of the same kind. They do grow
then. Any more where that came from, Thad?" demanded the boy at
the table, beginning to show a decided interest.

"Oh! I don't know. Would you say that was anything like the
breed?" and he continued to drag out objects which he held up
until Maurice had counted five.

"Here, you've gone and loaded that hole to have the laugh on me;
now just own up!" he exclaimed, finally, throwing up his hands as
if surrendering.

"Honest Injun, I never set eyes on a single one of the lot before
now. You can see they're awfully rusty, too, and need oiling,
because they've been lyin' in that cubbyhole lots of months. I've
had the Tramp nearly a year now, and the old fisherman built it
himself, he told me, meaning some day to float down the
Mississippi. Just to think that we're doing it instead of him."

"Sure there's no more of 'em inside that bully old cache?"
demanded Maurice, laughing as he surveyed the pile of rusty traps,
which no doubt has once been used by the former owner of the boat
to add to his scanty income by supplying him with numerous pelts
of muskrats in the swamp not far from the town on the Ohio.

"I reckon I got the whole bunch; but no harm in making one more
try," and as he spoke Thad pushed his arm again into the dark
opening.

Maurice watched him as if amused.

"Another, eh?" he laughed, as he saw Thad draw back, with an
exclamation of surprise and wonder.

"No trap this time; but something else poor old The must have
shoved in there for safe-keeping."

When he held the object up Maurice saw that it seemed to be a
little packet, wrapped in a dingy piece of oiled cloth.

"Well, I declare, that's mighty queer. Looks like the old fellow
used that hole for keeping his valuables in. Bring it over to the
light, Thad, and let's take a peep at it."

Thad was only too eager to do so, for somehow the fact of finding
a treasure-trove aboard the Tramp excited him not a little.

So he knelt down beside the rough little table that served them in
so many capacities, yet which could be turned up against the cabin
wall in case more room was needed at any time.

"Here, take my knife and cut that cord," said Maurice, when his
chum had been clumsily fingering the wrapping that bound the odd
little packet for what to him seemed an unnecessarily long time.

"Guess I'll just have to," observed Thad, with a grin; "since my
fingers all seem like thumbs. Here she goes, then," and he started
to use the keen edge of the steel blade.

"Wonder what it is," remarked the other, his eyes glued curiously
on the packet, which was not more than five or six inches in
length.

"Feels just like a book," returned Thad, starting to unwrap the
cloth that bound the object in its waterproof folds.

"A book, eh? Like as not some sort of diary. I've never heard you
talk much about the old fellow; was he educated at all, and could
he write d'ye think?" demanded his comrade, with awakening
interest.

"Sure he could. Well, what did I tell yo? It's a book all right,
and p'raps old The kept a record of the fish and muskies he caught
winter and summer. He was a queer old duck, though he did seem to
think a heap of me. Wow! look at that, would you!"

Thad's startled exclamation was not in the least surprising,
considering what had happened.

As he idly opened the book there was disclosed a little collection
of genuine government yellowback bills, not one of which was less
than ten dollars in its denomination. No wonder both boys stared,
their eyes seemingly "as big as saucers," as Thad afterwards
described it.

Mechanically Thad began to count the money that had come into
their possession so miraculously.

"Three hundred and thirty dollars! Did you ever hear of such luck
in all your born days?" he said, his face lighting up with
delight.

"But it isn't ours, you know, Thad. He gave you the boat, but how
do we know he ever meant you to have this money? Can't you just
remember something that would explain it all? Didn't he say just a
little to you at some time about it?"

Maurice looked anxiously from the pile of bills to Thad's sober
face, as though urging him to exert himself to the limit to bring
back to his mind some clue that would unravel the mystery.

And Thad suddenly became anxious himself; he cast a quick look
toward the little window of the shanty-boat cabin, just as if
oppressed with a fear that hostile eyes might even then fee
fastened upon them.

So quickly does the possession of riches bring new troubles; up to
that moment such a thing as a possible intruder had been far from
occurring to Thad; but circumstances alter cases, and now they had
something worth stealing--and he grew afraid.

So his first act was to push the money out of sight under an old
magazine that Maurice had been reading, one they had secured from
Bob Archiable, the itinerant clock mender, when aboard his
floating home.

"I remember now that when I went to see poor old The at the
hospital, when they sent for me, he told me that he wanted me to
have the Tramp for my own. Then he started to say something more,
but began to choke so he could hardly breathe. The nurse tried to
ease him, but he died right there before me. I've never forgot how
mournful like he looked at me. I always thought the old man was
trying to tell me something more. And now I believe it was this!"

"That's right, old fellow. But let's look into the book. I see it
has lots of writing in it, and perhaps we'll get a clue that way."

The book proved to be a rude sort of a diary, in which the river
fisherman kept an account of the various little matters which
concerned his rather monotonous life.

Now and then, however, there were references to his expectation of
realizing some long anticipated pleasure; and the name of "Bunny"
began to appear frequently.

"What do you make of it?" asked Thad, after they had read for half
an hour; he relied upon the sagacity of his companion to solve
what was proving a puzzle to him.

"Why, it seems to me that Bunny must have been some one dear to
the old man. I kind of think it was a daughter who married and
went down the river some time or other; for his thoughts seem to
have always been bent on that coming trip away down in Dixie, when
he grew too old to fish alone. But go on and read some more. I
reckon we'll catch on sure before the end."

Maurice settled himself more comfortably to listen.

"Sounds good to me, what you say; and that's about my mind, too,"
observed the one who had discovered the treasure-trove, as he once
more turned to the soiled diary to continue reading what the
former owner of the shanty-boat had written, in his crabbed hand.

"Here it is, at last; just listen," he exclaimed, fully ten
minutes afterward, and then he went on:

"I met a man today that had just come up from down-river way. And
he knows George Stormway well. He told me Bunny was getting on
right well, and had three children. Last time I heard there wa'nt
but two mouths to feed. But he said George was laid up sometimes
with the shakes, and money mighty scarce in their cabin. Time
about for Old The to make up his mind to just drop in on Bunny,
and surprise her. If I live to fall that's what I'm going to do,
sure. I reckon if I left here in October I'd bring up at Morehead
sometime about the end of November. But It'll be a long wait till
then. As I get older I seem to want to see the gal and her kids
more'n more,"

Maurice looked at Thad, and perhaps there was a suspicious
moisture in his eyes as he winked violently several times.

"The poor old chap never hung out, Thad. If he had he would be on
board this boat right now, carrying his little treasure down to
his Bunny, to give her a surprise. That was a tough deal all
right," he said, reaching out his hand for the charts they had
secured of the lower Mississippi.

"What's up?" asked the other and his voice was rather husky, so
that he had to cough several times to clear it.

"Why, d'ye know, I was wondering where that place might be. I
don't remember having noticed it; and p'raps it is too small to be
put on the map."

Thad went on reading in the diary, while his chum placed a
forefinger on the chart, and ran it slowly down. "Here's where we
are, right now," he was saying, half to himself; "and down below--
well, I declare, if that ain't the queerest thing. What d'ye
think, Thad, we must be only a day's run, above Morehead. It's on
the map all right, even if it is only a wood station, where the
river steamers stop to load up!"

Thad had to examine the location to make sure, and all the while
he was saying eagerly:

"It's just like all this happened on purpose, Maurice--my wanting
that trap so bad, and not finding it, and then looking in the hole
in the side of the cabin, to strike this! I reckon old The's
spirit must have been pushing me along; and Maurice, there ain't
but one thing for us to do now."

"Yes," said the other, nodding his head with determination; "this
money don't belong to us. Bunny needs it, and Bunny's going to get
it, if we can find her out!"

"Shake on that, Pard Maurice. I knew you'd say it!" cried Thad.

And then and there they ratified the bargain with a grip that
stood for everything that was loyal and true.





CHAPTER XIII

THE FACE AT THE WINDOW.


"What else did you find in what he wrote?" asked Maurice, after
they had dropped each other's hand again.

"Nothing much. He keeps mentioning Bunny often, showing that she
was getting more'n more on his mind. And twice he speaks about me,
and how much he had come to think of me. I'm glad to read that.
Here he even wonders if I'd like to go down river with him in the
Fall. Ain't it a queer world, after all, Maurice? Just to think
how things come around; for here we are right near the place poor
old The wanted to visit, and carrying his little pile to Bunny?"

"Nothing else worth telling?" asked the other.

"He speaks here about feeling bad, and hopes it ain't his old
trouble springing back on him again. Then the writing stops. I
reckon he was taken sick about that time. I tried to nurse him,
you know; but when he went out of his head I got scared, and ran
for a doctor. Then they took him away to that fine hospital at
Evansville, because he used to live there. After that it ended
right soon."

"Well, I guess the best thing for us to do would be to hide the
book and the money where you found it. All these months it's
stayed in that black hole safe, and it can stand another day or
so."

So, taking the advice of Maurice, Thad had placed the bills once
more between the pages of the diary, which he carefully pushed
into its former hiding place.

"Perhaps Bunny'll be glad to have his book, too. If she's his girl
she'd like to read what he said about her," suggested Maurice.

"That's so," replied the other, getting up from his knees.

Maurice saw him look up instinctively toward the little window;
and then spring hastily to his feet.

At the same moment he thought he heard some sound outside, as if a
floating object had struck against the anchored shanty-boat.

It might be a log, as frequently happened, for there were many
such drifting on the surface of the big river, washed from the
banks above by some local flood.

Thad, without wasting any time in thought, sprang to the door.
This had a faculty of catching sometimes, and requiring more or
less labor before it could be thrown open; and of course it had to
play Thad such a trick just then, when he seemed so desirous of
making haste.

Maurice, seeming to scent trouble of some sort from the strange
actions of his chum, waited to snatch up the old faithful Marlin
twelve-bore. It had seen them through other scrapes, and might
come in handy again.

Finally, after considerable exertion, Thad managed to open the
stubborn door, after which he rushed out on deck, followed by his
mate and the barking Dixie.

"What'd you think you saw?" demanded Maurice, as he discovered by
the light of the moon that the deck was devoid of anything in the
way of peril.

"A face at the window! Some man was aboard I Oh! I wonder if he
saw me put that book away?" exclaimed the excited Thad.

"But where is he now?" and the speaker glanced toward the shore,
which was a good twenty feet away, the gap being far too wide to
allow of any man jumping it.

"There's something moving away below there in the shadow of the
trees on the water!" exclaimed Thad.

"A log, p'raps," remarked the other, carelessly.

"But I did see a face, I'm sure of it; and if it was a man he just
jumped into his skiff and put off before I could get out. I wish I
knew for sure."

Thad made a move toward the little dinghy which lay upon the deck,
fastened with a chain and padlock, so that it could not be stolen
by any light-fingered coon.

"Hold on there, none of that. Let me catch you chasing down-river
after an unknown man in a skiff. Why, he'd just as like as not
upset you if you accused him of boarding our boat. Settle down and
try to forget it all. I reckon it was only imagination after all."

But Thad continued to shake his head, and declare that he did not
believe his eyes could play him such a trick.

"If it was a man, Maurice, and he once saw all that money, why
he'd come back again to try and steal it," he said, solemnly.

"Oh, I guess not," laughed his chum, holding up the gun in a
suggestive way; "at least not as long as we could defend our
property with this bully old shooter. But better make up your mind
it was a log, and let it go at that."

"Wish I could," grumbled Thad, shaking that stubborn head: of his.

"Well, how about that trapping expedition--plenty of steel in
sight, and a nice fat young ringtail would be just the boss dish
tomorrow. Anything doing?"

So Thad once more consented to drop the engrossing subject of old
The Badgeley's treasure-trove, and pay attention to the matter of
supplying their scanty larder with meat.

"Nothing to hinder my setting the whole outfit on the bank yonder,
is there?" he demanded, entering the lighted cabin again, and
thinking how snug it seemed after a short time on the cold deck.

"I don't reckon there is, Chum Thad. If one 'possum is good, two
ought to some better, and as for three, oh! my!" and he smacked
his lips as if in joy over the prospect of a feast.

Accordingly Thad carried out his plan. With some dripping from
fried bacon he greased each trap until the jaws worked readily.
Then he went ashore in the little tender, bearing the lantern in
order to make sure of his work.

Maurice sat there and watched the shore.

There was no reason why he should fondle his gun all the while,
but he persisted in doing so; which might be taken as an
indication that the words of his companion had made a deeper
impression on the scoffer than he would admit.

In half an hour Thad came aboard again, with cold fingers, but a
satisfied air.

"It's only a question of how many," he observed, as he once more
fastened the dinghy with the chain and lock.

"All right then. I'm going to make up my mouth for fat pig
tomorrow, and look out for squalls if you disappoint me," and
Maurice, as he spoke, led the way inside.

Thad was very particular how he saw to the fastenings of the door,
an operation his chum watched with many a chuckle.

"Say, if he has as poor luck opening doors as some people I know,
he never would get in here without arousing the dead; get that,
Thad?"

"Well, you never can tell about doors. Just when you want them to
open smart like, they won't budge. Then, when you'd like the pesky
old thing to hang fire she slides open just like the track was
greased with mutton tallow. I'm one of the kind that likes to make
sure!"

"Oh! I reckon you are right. Anyhow, we used to write in school
that it's no use locking the stable door after the horse is
stolen. But looky here, do you know it's turning-in time--ten
o'clock as near as I can tell. Me for the bunk, right quick!"

Thad sat there for some little time after his chum had crawled
into his comfortable, if cramped nest.

Finally he, too, began to get ready to retire. On these cold
nights the boys only partly undressed. They did not have any too
many blankets or comfortables, and it did get mighty dreary in the
cabin after the fire went out, with the wind sweeping over that
wide stretch of flowing water that came out of the wintry North.

But before Thad put out the lantern, he placed it just where he
could lay his hand on it at a second's notice and also made sure
to have matches handy.

Nor was that all. He quietly picked up the old Marlin, and
deposited it alongside his bunk.

Then came darkness, as he blew out the light. Thad heard a sound
not unlike a chuckle from the opposite bunk; but although he
imagined his comrade was laughing at all his preparations for
trouble, the fact did not give him much concern.

When his mind was made up nothing could turn Thad aside.

No doubt he woke up at regular intervals during that night, and
rising to his elbow listened eagerly to the various sounds coming
from without.

The little window was well within the range of his vision, and as
the moon shone brilliantly without he could see its entire
dimensions plainly.

But long ago an iron bar had been fastened across the exact center
of the opening, since the former owner of the shanty-boat did not
enjoy the thought that roving boys might enter and pillage while
he was on his route, peddling the buffalo fish he caught.

It would have to be a pretty small individual who could force his
way through that window; and yet Thad's fears induced him to
observe it with considerable apprehension.

But the night passed without any alarm.

If strangers landed on the deck of the shanty-boat while the young
owners slept, they failed to make their presence known.

Morning came at last.

Both boys were early astir, as was their custom; the coming of
daylight served to lure them from their bunks; and indeed on many
occasions they would have been getting breakfast before, only that
there was need of husbanding their scanty stock of oil.

Maurice, knowing that his chum was eager to learn whether any
spoils had fallen to his traps, volunteered to cook the limited
morning meal, while Thad paddled ashore.

He was almost through, and the coffee was giving a most appetizing
odor to the surrounding air, when the trapper came paddling out.

Maurice watched operations with more or less interest.

First of all Thad threw the traps aboard, trying to look
disappointed while so doing.

"Oh! come off, you!" cried his chum, who could see that there was
something assumed in the actions of the returned sportsman; "think
I don't just glimpse a tail like a round file sticking up over the
gunnel? Just as you said last night, it's only a question of HOW
MANY."

"One!" said Thad, as he tossed a young 'possum on deck.

"But that tail is still there!" cried his comrade.

"Two!"

"My! you make my mouth water some. That tail--"

"Three, and that takes your old tail. Now, what d'ye say to that
for good hick. Ain't we going to live high for a while? I don't
suppose you happened to see anything suspicious around?" and Thad,
as he spoke, handed up the gun which he had made sure to carry
with him "in case any more vicious dogs chanced to be roaming near
by," he had explained at the time he departed.

"Why, no, of course not; but what makes you ask such a silly
question as that, Thad?"

"Silly it may be, but I give you my word I heard a man cough just
as I climbed into the dinghy," asserted Thad.

But Maurice only smiled. Truth to tell he felt positive that there
had been nothing to the scare of the preceding night. Surely the
ordinarily alert Dixie must have barked had any stranger been
moving about on the deck while they sat in the cabin.

They were soon busy at the table. On the preceding day they had
been fortunate enough to buy a loaf of bread from a woman on a
canal-boat that was tied to the bank, her husband being
temporarily employed at some work on shore.

Butter they had none, but the sharp appetites for which the
outdoor life was responsible, craved none, and things tasted good
at all times; the only anxiety that arose was in connection of
quantity.

"Wood's mighty low, and as there's a chance of bad weather today,
after that red in the sky this morning, I move we lay in a stock
while we have the chance."

"Second the motion," quickly added Thad.

"All right. I'll rig up our endless carry then, while you clear
the table, after you get enough to eat," and Maurice went out on
the deck, where he could be heard working with the little tender.

Thad looked after him, and scratched his head. Then he did a most
extraordinary thing, which was nothing more or less than reaching
down and taking the packet from the hole in the wall, stripping
the cover from the book, and wrapping up a piece of wood in its
place.

Then he thrust the deception in the hole, and after a look about
him hid the diary, with its precious contents, INSIDE THE
COFFEEPOT, which he had emptied of its contents, and cleaned.

Perhaps he was playing a practical joke on his chum; but his face
was too sober to indicate this.

The probability was that Thad felt uneasy, and as both of them
were apt to be away from the craft at the same time, in the
process of wood gathering, he intended to make things as secure as
possible during his absence.

Which was conclusive evidence that at least he had not changed his
mind concerning the fact of a human face having been pressed
against that little window on the previous night.





CHAPTER XIV.

"MOREHEAD--OR BUST!"


When Thad came out he found that his comrade had gone ashore,
taking the ax with him.

Indeed, the sound of lusty blows told that he was already hard at
work, securing a supply of the necessary fuel.

Thad shut the door of the cabin.

He would have locked it, no doubt, only that it happened Maurice
had the key in his pocket just then.

So Thad shrugged his shoulders, and dragging the little ferry-boat
over the twenty feet of water he pulled himself ashore.

It was easy to locate the chopper by the sounds that arose; and so
he soon joined his mate, ready to spell him in the labor entailed
by the necessity for fuel.

The wood burned so quickly, with a strong draught always causing
the stove to roar, that large quantities of fuel were absolutely
necessary.

Both boys handled an ax first-rate, and indeed, Thad could equal
many an experienced woodsman in the accuracy of his strokes; while
Maurice was not far behind him.

When the chance came, and Maurice stopped for a breathing spell,
the second relay came into action; and once more the chips flew as
the fallen oak branches were cut into stove lengths.

By the time it came Thad's turn again to rest he wandered off,
much to the amusement of Maurice, who knew whither his thoughts
must be roving.

Just as he swung the ax above his head for a downward stroke he
received an electric shock.

Thad was calling his name, calling in an excited tone, too, as if
there was dire need of the other's presence.

"Bring the gun! bring the gun!"

That seemed to be the tenor of the shouts; and as he dropped his
tool Maurice swooped up the Marlin, which was standing against an
adjoining tree, and jumped for the river bank.

He knew that whatever had happened Thad wanted him at the water's
edge; and it was in that direction he hastened as fast as his legs
could carry him.

Twice in his haste he fell down, tripping over trailing vines; for
the continued shouts of his chum startled him.

And when he burst out of the thicket, to stand on the river bank,
close to where Thad was yelling, this was what he saw:

A row-boat was speeding down the river, urged on by the lusty
movements of a red-headed man who was sitting in it; Thad danced
about on the deck of the swamp, pointing after the fleeing party,
and calling on Maurice to "give him both barrels, the thief!"

But Maurice knew that it was useless, since the other was by this
time out of range, and the gun contained only small shot.

Nevertheless, urged on by the frantic appeals of Thad he did level
the Marlin, and bang away, though he saw the man duck down before
the reports came.

After the bombardment was over the redhead again poked into view,
and the fugitive made a movement with his hand to indicate his
poor opinion of such useless business.

Maurice, fearing the worst, began to drag the boat in to shore.

Dixie, having been drawn from his prowling around in search of
game by the shouts and shots, leaped in even before the little
dinghy had reached the bank.

By the time Maurice climbed out on the deck Thad seemed to have
recovered from his excitement to some extent.

"Didn't I tell you I saw a face, and wasn't it a sorrel-top, too?
Mebbe you'll believe me next time, my boy," he said, impressively.

"Where was he, and what was he doing?" demanded Maurice, showing
signs of alarm, and looking a bit weak as he contemplated the
grave consequences that might follow this raid.

"In the cabin, of course, and making himself at home. He had his
boat on the other side there, so I never suspected anything wrong
till he dashed out, jumped into it, and pulled like everything."

"Were you on board then?" asked Maurice.

"Just climbing on deck when he came jumping out like a whirlwind."

"Perhaps you disturbed him in his game then?" suggested Maurice
making a bee-line for the open door.

When a few seconds later the other followed him it was to see
Maurice on hands and knees before the little opening in the wall
of the cabin, thrusting in his arm as far as he could.

"Oh! Thad, it's gone--the thief got away with poor Bunny's money!"
he was exclaiming, his voice full of horror.

"Well, he would have hooked it, only for something I did that
you'd have called silly if you'd seen me!"

And with this complacent remark Thad coolly walked over to the
shelf where some of their cooking utensils stood, took down the
battered old coffeepot, and throwing back the lid, thrust his hand
inside.

The astonished eyes of his mate followed each little proceeding
with rare interest; and when Maurice saw the well remembered diary
of old appear, which being opened disclosed the lovely yellowbacks
nestling within, he gave a shout twice repeated, while he swung
his hat around his head.

"Bully for you, Thad! I take it all back, every word! It surely
does pay to be cautious, even if people call you an old woman.
Only for that he might have found the money; and then how mean
we'd feel. Tell me what you did. He acted like he was satisfied
he'd done a big thing."

"Well, perhaps he knows better now, if he's had time to tear open
the package I put in place of this book; for it was a nice fat
sliver of wood!" laughed Thad.

Thereupon Maurice grappled him with a bear-like hug, and waltzed
him out on deck, to the intense delight of Dixie, who seemed to
think all this demonstration must be for his benefit, for he set
up a furious barking and snapped at the heels of the dancing boys.

When they went ashore again things were left differently. The
cabin door was locked, with Dixie inside. They could depend on his
snappy barking to give warning of any uninvited guest aboard.

But the wood-cutting proceeded without further alarm.

True, Thad was so nervous over the matter that he insisted on
carrying what fuel they had cut down to the dinghy every little
while, just so he could call out to the yellow cur, and have him
give a reassuring bark.

And finally the several loads had been safely ferried across the
watery gap, so that the cruisers were ready to start moving.

The anchor was raised by means of a primitive but effective
derrick Maurice had devised. This he also made use of in handling
the square fish net which could be dropped over the side, baited,
and then lifted half an hour later, with more or less generous
results. Of course this method of fishing was only to be enjoyed
while they were at anchor. It is in general use along the Ohio
river; and indeed, Maurice had even seen pictures of the same
thing in the magazine lying on the table, and which illustrated
queer doings far off in Uncle Sam's Philippine possessions.

Once again they were floating southward, with a moving panorama of
shore to interest them.

Maurice was figuring on the swiftness of the current, just how
many miles an hour it ran at this point, and when they were likely
to bring up at Morehead.

"I think we ought to make it by sun-down, Thad," he finally
announced, after finishing his complicated calculations.

"You make me feel good, partner, when you say that," returned his
chum, who was handling the sweep and keeping the boat a certain
distance from the shore, where they could get the full benefit of
the current without taking undue risks of being swept out on the
broad bosom of the majestic river.

"Yes, I know what's on your mind. You'd like to get rid of our
responsibility, and hand that packet over to Bunny," remarked
Maurice.

"Wonder what she's like; sounds as if she might be a little girl;
but that couldn't be, for she was his daughter," Thad said.

"Yes, and has three kids, the book said. Oh! that must have been a
pet name for her when she was little. The chances are well find
her a strapping big woman, something like that one we bought our
last loaf of bread from."

"Well, she won't take after her pa then, that's all, Maurice."

"Why, was he small," asked the other.

"I always thought so, for a man; not quite as tall as I am; and
with a voice like a lady's. I liked old The; and I wish he had
only lived long enough to deliver his own money to Bunny," Thad
went on.

"I was wondering where that fellow came from, Thad."

"Who, our visitor of last night and this morning? Oh! I suppose
he's got a shack somewhere below here, and was on the way home
from an up-river town when he sighted our craft, and crept aboard
to see if there was anything he could pick up."

"That's about the right thing. Say, I bet he was hopping mad when
he tore open that package, and saw what he had drawn in the
lottery, eh, Thad?"

"Mad would never fill the bill. I hope he don't wait up for us,
and give us a shot or two wlien we sail past his cabin. I'd hate
the worst kind to have my skin filled with shot; and nobody could
ever prove who did it. That's one reason why I've steered further
away from the bank than we generally keep, you notice, Maurice,"

"Well, that's level old head on your shoulders, my boy. The fellow
who gets you napping will have to tumble out of bed right early in
the morning, I reckon," laughed Maurice, patting his chum
patronizingly on the shoulders.

"And I keep one eye on the shore, too, pretty much all the time.
Just let me see anybody moving, and I'm ready to drop flat till
the storm rolls by. What's that over there right now, Maurice?"

He pointed with quivering finger at some object that seemed to be
bending down the bushes on a certain projecting point which they
happened to be approaching.

"Don't worry; it's all right. That is only a cow, for you can see
her horns from here, Thad."

"But seeing horns sometimes spells trouble. They say the devil
mounts a fine pair, you know. A cow, Maurice, means human kind
near by; that stands for a cabin; and how do we know but what our
sorrel-top friend of this morning owns the ranch. Just lie down
behind that box, or go into the cabin till we drift past. I'll
feel easier when we leave the thing a mile above."

A hail from the shore presently came floating over the water; but
it was a negro who called, and he only wanted to know if they had
any coffee they would spare him.

Since their entire stock amounted to just enough for a scant week,
with meagre chances for replenishing the caddy when exhausted,
since their funds were very low, of course they had to reply in
the negative.

The darky was inclined to be talkative, as is usually the case,
and even followed them half a mile along the bank, trying to find
some basis for a dicker.

"Thank goodness he can't cross that creek!" exclaimed Maurice, as
they passed the mouth of quite a good sized stream that flowed
into the enormous river, adding its mite to the gigantic flood.

The colored gentleman looked as though it would only require the
least encouragement for him to step in and swim across; but as
this was not forthcoming he waved his ebony arm in farewell and
turned back again.

Thad breathed easier.

Nevertheless, for hours he continued to scan the shore-line ahead;
and once, when some unseen hunter fired at some sort of game back
from the river's edge, the sweep-tender was seen to duck his head
mechanically, much to the amusement of his companion.

The day grew old, and they had made uninterrupted progress, not
even stopping for the midday meal. While Thad held the long oar
his mate slung some sort of a hot meal together, which satisfied
their voracious appetites and warmed them as well.

"Where's your storm?" asked Thad, about the middle of the
afternoon, as he glanced up at the sky.

"Here, you're squinting in the wrong direction, man. Suppose you
look to the southward, a little veering toward the west. Don't you
glimpse some dark clouds there?"

"Of course," Thad agreed; "but that's a poor sign. Why, you can
nearly always see some clouds hanging low down there. It's been
getting warmed right smart. That sun feels almost hot to me."

"That's a pretty good sign of rain, that seldom fails. But what do
we care! Our roof don't leak, Thad!"

"No, but it will be tough if the downpour comes just when we want
to look for George Stormways and Bunny. I suppose, though, we
could tie up at Morehead and wait till it passes by."

"Hope we haven't passed it already," said Maurice, looking
serious.

"Oh! I don't think that could be possible, do you? If the place is
big enough to get marked on the chart, it ought to be of a size
for two fellows to see it in passing. And the two landings we did
notice were other settlements, for we asked their names. One man
said Morehead was below a piece. I'm expecting to see it soon."

"Suppose we don't till dark?" remarked Thad, always on the lookout
for trouble. "What are you going to do then?"

"Keep right along, sonny, until we see lights, when we can push in
and tie up. It's Morehead or bust!"

"All right, you're the skipper, I told you, Maurice. The cook has
ideas of his own, but he ain't going to run counter of an
experienced navigator like the boss. But I hope we come across
that station before dark. You know the moon don't rise till about
nine now; so we can count on several hours of black sailing."

Thad said no more, neither did his comrade make any attempt to
continue the argument; for both of them were still hoping that
Morehead would consent to show up inside of another hour.

But for some reason distances seemed unduly lengthened on this
particular day, and the gloaming swooped down upon them with the
coveted goal still undiscovered ahead.

Maurice was grimly set upon keeping his word.

As a usual thing they discouraged night traveling on the great
river, because of the aggravated perils involved; but this was a
case that was out of the common.

Thad went in to look after the wood fire, and wrestle with the
problem of what to have with the baked 'possum, that had been
cooking much of the afternoon.

There were no sweet potatoes now, since the last one had been
devoured on the preceding day; so after mature thought the cook
was compelled to put on some "grits," as they fortunately still
had quite a little stock of this famous Southern staple, which in
the North goes by the name of hominy alone.

He hoped that by the time supper was ready they might have reached
their haven; either that, or the determination of Maurice to keep
moving have suffered a change. If it were otherwise they must eat
one at a time, while the other attended to the sweep, and kept
watch and ward.

He had things pretty well along when a welcome shout from the
pilot outside came to his ears.

"What ho?" asked Thad, as he thrust his head out of the cabin
door.

"Lights ahead on the shore, and I reckon we must be close on that
old Morehead," returned Maurice.

"I can hear roustabouts chanting," said the cook, as he bent his
ear; "and I bet you that's a steamboat getting wood aboard."

"Wouldn't be surprised. If it is, then that place is Morehead.
Perhaps this George Stormways may be in charge of the woodyard.
Anyhow I reckon we're going to learn something about him here; and
now you see that my idea of keeping right along drifting was the
correct one after all."

"I suppose so. I hope the steamer don't take a notion to move off
while we're passing. I wouldn't like to take the responsibility of
ramming and sinking her, you know, Maurice."

"Get in nearer the shore, and we'll drop anchor above the landing.
If we do that we needn't worry, because you see she's bound to
lean away from land when she starts. That's the ticket. Get in the
push!"

Thad had picked up the pole with which they were able in shallow
water to urge the shanty-boat toward the shore; he could reach
bottom easily, and under his efforts, as well as the swing of the
current, and the inclination of the sweep, the Tramp soon gained
an offing in water that was not more than three feet in depth.

The two boys could easily see the exciting scene as a line of
black ran on board the steam-boat, each carrying two or more
sticks of wood on his head, and keeping rhythmic time to the
droning chant which every man joined in.

Lanterns and blazing torches made of fat pine knots lit up the
weird scene; and taking it in all, they would not have missed it
for considerable.

"There goes the pilot's bell--they're off!" exclaimed Maurice, as
the line ceased pouring over the guards of the steamboat; then
came a loud and hoarse whistle, after which steam began to hiss
and the stern wheel to churn the waters of the mighty Mississippi.

"Now it's our turn," laughed Maurice, prepared to drop down to the
landing, where a fire burned and threw a glare around.





CHAPTER XV.

THAD GETS A SHOCK.


The arrival of the little Tramp did not create anything like the
commotion which marked the landing of the big stern-wheel river
steam-boat.

A few darkies idling on the shore drew near, filled with curiosity
when they discovered that only two boys comprised the crew of the
floating craft; and Dixie barked strenuously at them, as if to let
the community know that while the shanty-boat failed to possess a
whistle, it was not without some means of announcing its arrival.

Thad threw a rope ashore to one of these blacks, who whipped it
about a post, and the boat presently lay alongside the landing.

"You go ashore and ask questions."

It was Thad who said this, because he knew his chum was so much
better able to probe things than himself.

"All right," replied Maurice, readily, "and you can look after the
boat; though likely enough none of these fellows will try to run
away with it."

"Well, I don't mean to give them half a chance. Just think what
would become of us if such a thing happened. We'd have to go to
work on a cotton plantation, sure, to make money enough to get
further along. I've got the good old Marlin handy, Maurice, and
just let any thief try to come aboard, that's all. I'll pepper his
hide for him, and salt it in the bargain," declared Thad,
resolutely.

"I believe you would, boy," laughed his comrade, as he stepped
from the deck to the shore.

He had already noted that Morehead did not appear to be much of a
place. Indeed, beyond the piles of cordwood, and a few scattered
cabins, there did not seem to be anything of a settlement.

"Only excuse it has for being on the map is that some steamers
find it convenient to stop and wood up here. That woodyard is the
whole thing," thought Maurice. He turned upon the negro who had
whipped the cable around the post in an obliging way.

"Where can I find the man who runs the woodyard?" he asked.

"'Deed, I reckon he am in hees store dar, boss," came the reply.

"A store, eh? Where is it situated?" continued Maurice, bent on
following up the clue.

"See dat flare up yander--dat am de light in de windy. Mars Kim he
keep gen'ral 'sortment ob goods. On'y place to buy grits in ten
mile," observed the other, pointing.

"What is his name?" asked the boy, deeming it only right that he
should be fully armed with this much information before starting
in to interview the other.

"Mars Kim, fuh sho'! Dat's wat we allers calls him, boss. Reckons,
as how yuh haint gut sech a ting as some terbaccy 'bout yuh, now?
I'se done clean out."

Maurice shook his head in the negative.

"I'm sorry, but you see, I don't smoke," he remarked.

He would have willingly tossed the moke a nickel for his readiness
to assist them; but truth to tell, even such small coin happened
to be at a premium with the voyagers just then--although they
carried a small fortune in yellowbacks, not for worlds would they
think of making use of a single bill for their own benefit--it was
a sacred trust in their eyes.

He strode over to the building where the brilliant light in the
window announced headquarters. Closer investigation disclosed the
fact that the glow was caused by an acetylene lamp which piece of
enterprise doubtless caused the storekeeper to assume a high place
in the estimation of the lazy negroes, and shiftless "white trash"
of the neighborhood.

It was a general country store.

Maurice had seen many such, though, as this one happened to be at
a point much further south than the others, it doubtless contained
features that stamped it unique in his eyes.

But they had no money to spend in groceries just then; and it was
an entirely different errand that caused him to venture into the
establishment.

Over the door he noticed a sign which he was just able to read.

It at least gave him the name of the proprietor.

Store, and Office of Woodyard. Kim. Stallings, Prop.

A gawky clerk, undoubtedly of the "cracker" persuasion, was
waiting on several dusky customers, and vainly endeavoring to keep
them in a clump, as if he feared to let the bunch scatter, lest
certain unprotected articles vanish with their departure.

Looking further Maurice discovered that over in one quarter there
seemed to be a sort of enclosure, over which was the significant
notice "P. O."

He could see that some one was behind the gaudy brass grillwork;
and believing that this was likely to be the proprietor, engaged
in entering upon his books that late delivery of cordwood to the
steamboat, the boy moved that way.

As he stood there in front of the little opening the man beyond
looked up. He seemed surprised to see a stranger.

"Evenin', sah. What can I do foh you?" he asked politely, upon
discovering that it was a white person.

"Is this Mr. Stallings?" asked Maurice.

"Yes, sah, that is my name," replied the other, curiously.

"I have just come off a shanty-boat that is tied up here. I have a
chum with me on the boat. We want to find a man by the name of
George Stormways. Can you tell me if he happens to live near by?"

"Huh!"

The owner of the woodyard and country store bent forward still
more and took a closer look at the speaker. It seemed to Maurice
as though Mr. Stallings had suddenly become more deeply interested
in the personality of the stranger, though he could not give even
a guess just why that should be so.

"George Stormways," repeated Maurice, slowly and deliberately, as
though he wanted the other to fully understand.

"Why, yes he gits his mail hyah, sah; leastways, he allers used
tuh come hyah tuh trade, when he had any money. George worked foh
me a long spell, till the shakes knocked him out," said the other,
finally.

Maurice had been studying the man. He believed he could see
honesty in his thin sallow face, but hesitated to say anything
about the real motive that influenced himself and chum to stop in
order to hunt up George Stormways.

Such a secret had better be confined to as few persons as
possible. Still, that would not prevent him from saying that he
had some good news for the man he sought.

"How far away from the Landing does he live, Mr. Stallings?" he
asked, promptly.

"Reckons as how it air all o' fo' mile, sah. An' in the present
disturbed condition o' the country, mebbe, sah, it would be wise
foh you to defer yuh visit thah to mawnin'," came the reply.

"I reckon we'll have to, sir, if we can tie up below the landing
without getting in the way. We want to see George and his wife the
worst kind, and couldn't think of going on down the river without
making a big effort to do so. Yes, we'll spend a day at Morehead,
and get acquainted. I only wish we were better supplied with cash,
so we might trade with you; but just now it happens we're on rock
bottom."

The other seemed to be fairly consumed by curiosity. Never before
had he known such a bright lad to be drifting south on a shanty-
boat. Usually those aboard such craft were seasoned river
travelers, men who lived on the water, "Mississippi tramps," as
they are called, some of whom MIGHT be honest, though he judged
the entire lot by the character of a few, and they the worst.

But here was a bright, wide-awake boy, with a face that somehow
interested him, despite his inborn suspicion.

"What did yuh say yuh name might be, sah?" he asked.

"I didn't happen to mention it, but it is Maurice Pemberton. We
are both natives of Kentucky, and on the way to New Orleans to
meet my uncle, who is captain of a big steamer, due there in
February."

"Would yuh please step around to the side, an' oblige me by coming
in hyah. Seems like I feel an interest in yuh-all, and if yuh felt
like tellin' me the story I'd be obliged."

Maurice was only too willing to oblige. At the same time he
continued to hold to his resolution to handle the subject of the
money with due caution. Mr. Stallings was undoubtedly perfectly
trustworthy; but the information might get afoot, and cause
trouble.

Of course he could not decline to make a friend of the
storekeeper, who had taken an interest in the voyage of the little
Tramp. Maurice was only a boy, but he knew that one could never
have too many friends in this world.

So he followed directions, and was speedily seated alongside Kim.
Stallings, telling him all about how the voyage happened to begin.

The man became greatly interested as he proceeded and read the
wonderful letter from Uncle Ambrose with kindling eyes.

"Glad yuh stopped in hyah, Maurice; glad tuh have met up with yuh;
and if so be yuh are short with cash, I wouldn't mind trustin' yuh
foh some grits and such like. I reckons sho' yuh'd send the money
aftah yuh met with this uncle. So don't yuh go tuh worryin' 'bout
gettin' on short rations, my boy," remarked Kim. Stallings, after
he had talked with the other for some little time.

"That's awful fine of you to say so, Mr. Stalling. Perhaps we'll
take you up, though my chum is against running in debt a cent. But
we have a long trip ahead of us yet, and to stop over and go to
work to earn money enough to buy grub might keep us from getting
down to Orleans in time to meet Uncle Ambrose."

Maurice insisted upon shaking the lean hand of the Dixie
storekeeper as he said this, an operation to which the other did
not seem in the least averse.

"But yuh said that yuh wanted to meet up with George Stromway the
wust kind," continued the man, kindly; "in the mawnin' I'll start
yuh right. P'raps one o' his kids might be 'round tuh take yuh
through the woods, and 'round the swamps, foh it's ticklish
travelin' with a stranger, sah."

"We have some good news for George," admitted the boy.

"Well, now, I'm glad tuh hyah that same. I reckon he needs it
right bad around now. Nawthin' ain't a gwine tuh do pore George
any lastin' good till he pulls up stakes an' gits outen this low
kentry. If he was only on a farm up on higher land I reckon the
shakes'd give the critter the go-by. But George, he cain't never
raise the money he'd have tuh put up, tuh rent a farm an' buy the
stock foh it."

"Would it take very much?" queried Maurice, trying to appear quite
unconcerned, though he was really quivering with eagerness.

The storekeeper looked at him and smiled, as though he could read
the boy's face like a printed book.

"Oh! not so very much, sah. I done reckons as how a couple o'
hundred'd do the trick; but that means a heap o' money tuh a pore
feller like George. He done tole me a year back that some relative
o' hisn up-Nawth was a thinkin' o' comin' down with some cash, an'
settin' o' him up on a farm; but it all seemed to blow over. He
was nigh broke up about it, too, sah, I tell yuh."

Maurice could not hold in altogether.

"It was his wife's father, old The. Badgeley. My chum knew him
well. He didn't come because he died. But he left something for
his daughter. He called her Bunny, and I don't even know her
name," he said.

"That sounds real good, sah; and I sure am glad tuh heah it. I've
done all I could afford foh George; but he don't seem to hold out.
Many times he's kim back to work foh me, an' broke down. It'll be
a godsend foh the pore feller, if so be he kin pull out. I'll see
that you git a fair start in the mawnin' sah, I shore will."

Maurice began to fear that his chum might be growing anxious about
him, so he got up to leave.

"Nothin' yuh-uns 'd like tuh have to-night?" inquired Mr.
Stallings, as he shook hands warmly at parting.

Maurice smiled and shook his head.

"There's lots we need," he said; "but I wouldn't dare think of
accepting your kind offer without consulting Thad. He's queer
about running up debts. But in the morning we'll both see you
again."

So he said good night, and went out, resolutely shutting his eyes
to the abundance of good things to eat that greeted him on every
side.

Thad was eagerly waiting for him, and the other could see that he
was brimming over with excitement.

"Say, if it wasn't for wanting to meet up with George so bad I'd
be for dropping down river five miles, and giving this beastly old
place the go-by," he said, as Maurice came aboard.

"Why, what on earth is the matter?" asked the other, dismayed.

"Then you didn't hear anything about it, eh? I reckon it's such a
common occurrence around this part of the country they don't think
anything about it," continued Thad, seriously.

"Why, whatever in the wide world are you talking about, son?"
demanded Maurice, greatly puzzled to account for this new evidence
of timidity on the part of his friend, who, as a usual thing, had
always seemed bold enough.

"I don't like it so close, that's all. I bet you I dream of the
thing tonight, and every time I look up it seems like my eyes
always went straight there."

He pointed up the bank.

Maurice followed his extended forefinger to a point just a little
further along, where some trees stood.

He could see some object that seemed to move to and fro like the
exhausted pendulum of a clock.

Apparently it was suspended from a limb, and as Maurice caught the
true significance of what his chum meant, he felt a cold chill
pass through his frame.

"Say, do you mean to tell me that is a man hanging there?" he
asked; and if his voice took on a sudden hoarseness, it was not to
be wondered at under the circumstances.

"I just reckon it must be," returned Thad, pleased to note that
his comrade seemed just as filled with horror as he himself had
been.

"But do you KNOW it is--did any of those coons tell you so?"
persisted the other.

"N-no, because, you see, Maurice, I never noticed it when they
were around. The moon, managed to climb up while you were gone;
and then I just happened to see it. Ugh! I've done mighty little
else but stare at it ever since."

"But perhaps you may be mistaken, Thad."

"Sure; but don't forget that we're away down in Dixie, now; where
they hang a darky without bothering trying him, if so be he's shot
a white man. And don't it LOOK like it--tell me that, Maurice?"
went on the late guardian of the shanty boat.

"Oh! I admit that it does, all right. But if you think I'm going
to let the whole night go by without investigating this thing,
you're away off."

Maurice turned resolutely around as he spoke.

"Where are you going?" demanded his chum, nervously.

"Ashore again to see. If that is a man, I rather think Mr.
Stalling would have said something to me about it; though now that
I think of it he did hint that it wasn't altogether safe for a
stranger to go wandering off into the woods and swamps right now.
Perhaps it's just as you say, and this is some black thief they
caught. But I hope you're mistaken, Thad."

"I do, too, because you see I want some sleep tonight. But hold
on."

"What's the matter now?" asked the other, as Thad caught his arm.

"I'm going with you, that's all," and accordingly he stepped
ashore, carrying the gun along with him.

They approached the suspicious object with more or less display of
valor; though doubtless the hearts of both lads beat like trip-
hammers from the unwonted excitement.

The moon, which had been partly hidden by some fleecy, low-lying
clouds, now took a sudden notion to sail into a clear patch of
blue sky; and in consequence objects could be much more readily
seen.

Both lads strained their eyes to discover how much truth there
might be in the grim suspicions of Thad.

Not until they were close up to the strangely swaying object could
they fully decide as to its character.

Then Thad gave a grunt, while Maurice laughed.

"That's the way with most ghosts, Thad; when you get close up they
just turn out to be something awfully common and you feel sick to
think what you imagined," remarked Maurice, as he put up his hand
and took hold of the swinging object.

"Say, who'd imagine now that they'd hang up an old bundle of wraps
off goods, like this?" said Thad, in disgust.

"But you can sleep all right now," remarked his friend, not a
little relieved himself to find that they were not up against one
of those grim tragedies that have been so common through the
country of the lower Mississippi.

"That's right. Let's get back home. I want to hear what you picked
up about George," declared Thad, a little confused.

And accordingly they once more went aboard the boat, seeking the
comfortable interior of the cabin, where Maurice could spin his
yarn, and a council of war be called to decide on many matters.





CHAPTER XVI.

THE TROUBLE THAT WAS MET ON THE ROAD.


The night seemed unusually long to Thad.

They had locked the door of the cabin, and by this time he had
come to the positive conclusion that no human being could ever
climb in through the little window, as long as that stout iron bar
remained across its center.

Nevertheless, half a dozen times Thad awoke, and on each and every
occasion he seemed to deem it a solemn duty to get out of his
bunk, pass over to the window, which was, of course, open for
ventilation, and observe the whole of the shore that could be
seen.

But the bright moonlight bathed the bank in its radiance, the soft
night wind murmured among the trees, and possibly certain sounds,
such as the hooting of owls, or the barking of some honest
watchdog, disturbed the silence of the night, yet there was no
cause for alarm.

Morning came at last.

It had been decided that they might accept the kind offer of the
storekeeper to a limited extent. They would be foolish to allow a
scruple to stand in the way. Besides, even as it was, they stood
to run up against trouble below, from a shortage of provisions.

So Maurice went ashore, and, seeking the store, was cordially
greeted by the proprietor.

"Made up yuh mind tuh trade with me, sah?" asked Mr. Stallings, as
he thrust out his lean brown hand in greeting.

"We have up to five dollars. My chum refuses to get any deeper in
debt. And if you have no objections we'll carry off a slab of
breakfast bacon and some grits right now," returned Maurice.

"Right glad you settled it that way. I'd ben sorry tuh see yuh go
on without some provisions, sah. Pick out just what yuh want, an'
I'll make a note o' it. But if so be ten dollars 'd seem better
tuh yuh, don't hang back," went on the generous Southerner.

"I wouldn't dare go one cent beyond the five, or Thad would be
after my scalp. And he'll want to see the bill, too, depend on
that."

Maurice quickly returned to the boat, bearing the bacon and grits;
for without the same their breakfast would have been slim, indeed.

Afterward they locked the cabin, and both ventured over to the
general store; for Thad was determined that since the precious
packet had to be delivered to George that morning, he was not
going to let his chum have all the pleasure of bringing joy into
the life of the poor family.

"Besides," he added, when making his plea, "who knows what trouble
you might meet up with on the road? If the storekeeper hinted that
it wasn't right safe for strangers to be wandering around, perhaps
you might be held up by some thieves. Two would be better than one
if that happened, you know."

Maurice was well satisfied that it should be so; though he had not
brought the subject forward, he hardly fancied the idea of taking
that four mile jaunt and back, alone.

Besides, the possession of so much money was apt to arouse fears
that might never have occurred to him otherwise.

So he had readily assented to the proposition of his chum.

Mr. Stallings was pleased to meet the second lad; and Thad quite
took to the Southern storekeeper and woodyard proprietor at sight.

They remained long enough to get full directions concerning the
road that would bring them to the desolate little home of George.

"I'd advise yuh tuh keep an eye out along the swamp, boys. They's
a few bad coons somewhar in that thar place. The sheriff he 'lows
tuh git 'em right soon, an' any day weuns hyah 'spect tuh see 'im
drift in wid some prisoners. I heard as how he had collected his
posse three days back. Keep that gun right handy, son; an' if so
be yuh have tuh shoot, make her tell!"

All of which might be interesting news; but it was hardly
calculated to quiet the nerves of the two boys.

However, they were not the kind to give up any cherished object
simply because it involved peril.

"Thank you, Mr. Stallings. You said you'd keep an eye on our boat
while we were gone, didn't you? It isn't much of a beauty, but you
see it's all we've got; and we calculate that it'll just have to
carry both of us to Orleans," remarked Maurice, as they started
away.

"Don't yuh think of any harm acomin' tuh the boat, sah. I'll give
yuh my word they wont. And if so be yuh choose tuh stay over
night, I'll use the key yuh left with me, an' put a man inside tuh
keep guard, a man who would as soon shoot a thief as eat his
bacon."

So the two chums started off.

The morning was delightfully fresh, with the sun shining overhead,
and just a tank of frost in the air, enough to make them tramp
along with a spring to their steps.

But before they had gone beyond the last cabin Thad gave utterance
to an ejaculation of dismay.

"What's the matter now; forgot something? Hope the Marlin is
loaded, and you picked up a few more shells for your pocket?" said
his comrade, as they both stopped short.

"Oh, sure, I saw to all that. It's a different matter," mumbled
Thad, who seemed to be staring hard at something to one side.

Turning, Maurice discovered a tumble-down shack, around which
several dirty white children were playing.

"What is it?" he asked; "didn't think you saw a ghost, again, eh?"

Thad shook his head.

"Nope. This was a live ghost, I reckon. And he had a fiery red-top
in the bargain," he said positively.

Immediately Maurice understood what ailed him.

"A man with a red head of hair; and you think it might be the same
fellow that tried to rob us yesterday up-river? Is that it?"

"Sure it is," replied Thad.

"But you know there are lots of men with red hair?" protested his
comrade.

"Yes, but not with that nasty laugh. You heard it when he paddled
away, thinkin' he had the stuff; and I heard him give the same
kind of laugh just when he dodged into that shack."

"He did, eh? Funny I didn't happen to hear it. What made him laugh
this time, d'ye suppose, Thad?"

"Ask me something easy, will you? P'raps he was tickled to see old
friends again. Then, again, mebbe the notion struck him that after
all the fish that got away the other time was comin' straight into
his net. All I know is he laughed; and that it's the same
critter!"

When Thad was positive it took mountains to change his opinion.

But then Maurice did not see that there was anything improbable in
the idea, since the thief who had visited them had rowed down
river, and just as likely as not had his home at Morehead.

"Well, come along, pard. Even if it is our old acquaintance, he'd
better think twice before trying to hold us up," he remarked,
giving a pull at the other's sleeve.

"But he knows what we've got along. He may tell some others just
as tough as himself; and how could we hold up our end if half a
dozen tackled us?" grumbled Thad, as he stalked along at the side
of his chum.

"Shall we go back, then?" asked the other.

"Nixy. I don't care if there's a dozen coming, we're going to get
to George all right. You hear me, Maurice."

"That's the right way to speak. But, after all, perhaps we won't
have the least bit of trouble. Didn't you hear Mr. Stallings say
the sheriff was abroad with a posse, looking for rascals. Strikes
me that this wouldn't be a good time for our friend to try any of
his tricks. They use a rope down here for a remedy. Jails are
played out. There's no need of bothering any, Thad."

So they walked briskly along the road, which was, after all, not
much of a thoroughfare, and required close watching lest they
stray away and lose themselves.

But the storekeeper had given plain directions, so that with
proper diligence they should not have any trouble about keeping
along the right path.

Although Thad had appeared to agree with his chum that there was
no need for worry, it might be noticed that he let Maurice do most
of the looking for the right signs that were to safeguard their
course. On his part he felt that necessity demanded that he twist
his head just one in so often and scan the rear.

Maurice knew what he was doing, but made no complaint. Indeed, in
secret, he was almost as anxious as Thad, even though he had not
seen the man with the red head with his own eyes; and had tried to
laugh at the idea of his being the same scoundrel who had tried to
rob the shanty-boat further up the river.

After they had placed Morehead Landing some distance in the rear
they found themselves in a very lonely place, indeed.

Evidently they must be approaching the swamp spoken of by the
friendly storekeeper. Here and there they could see trailing
streamers of Spanish moss clinging to the branches of the trees;
and the further they went the more desolate their surroundings
became.

"Say, ain't it enough to give a feller the shivers?" observed
Thad, when an owl began to hoot in a mournful way back from the
road.

"I must say it doesn't seem to be particularly cheerful around
this region. But we must be more'n half way there; and nothing's
happened yet," returned Maurice, stoutly.

"There, what was that?" asked his chum, coming to a sudden stop.

"Where?" demanded Maurice, who had taken his turn at carrying the
gun; and as he spoke bringing it half way up to his shoulder,
while his thumb played with one of the hammers.

"I saw something moving ahead; sure I did!" declared Thad, shaking
that obstinate head of his the whole.

"Perhaps so, but that's not saying it was a MAN! Did it have red
hair, do you know, Thad?"

"There you go, Maurice, always making fun of me. I didn't see any
head, so I can't say; but it looked like a man creeping off."

"Right where, son?"

"Do you see that clump of bushes, the ones with the bully red
leaves? Well, it was close to them. It moved just when I happened
to look that way. I give you my word, Maurice."

"All right. We'll find out quick enough, I reckon," remarked the
other, with that decisive ring in his voice which Thad knew so
well.

"Now what are you goin' to do, pard? Don't be too rash. Remember
what Mr. Stallings, said," and Thad laid a restraining hand on his
chum's arm.

But Maurice was not to be daunted.

"Fall in behind me, then. I'm going up to the bushes and see for
myself what it was. Ten to one it must have been a muskrat out of
the swamp; or perhaps a fox, prowling around for his grub."

He cocked both barrels of the Marlin, and the act must have
instilled new courage in the heart of Thad, for he immediately
removed his detaining hand.

"All right, then; go ahead. If he jumps for you, poke the old gun
in his face."

He stooped down and secured possession of a stout cudgel himself,
as though he felt inclined to back up his comrade after a fashion.

In this manner they slowly approached the clump of bushes, where
the frost had turned the leaves to rusty red color.

Maurice was on the alert for any sign of trouble. He even passed
partly around the clump, without discovering anything to indicate
the presence of an enemy.

When he had made sure that the bushes did not conceal a lurking
figure, he turned to Thad with a grin.

"Went off in smoke, I reckon. A fellow who can see a hanging coon
in a bundle of burlap strung up to a tree might imagine anything,
it seems to me," he said a little sarcastically.

Thad looked somewhat sheepish.

He allowed his head to droop, and shrugged his shoulders.

"I did see something move, I tell you. It seemed to skip back out
of sight, like it didn't want me to get my peepers on it," he
said, with a conviction that would not be denied.

"All right. I hear you; but please show me the animal or human
being. I'm willing to be convinced, Thad."

The other started to smile.

"I reckon I can't show you the thing that was here, Maurice, but I
might do the next best thing," he said, eagerly.

"What's that--point out it's shadow?" jeered the other, still
skeptical.

"A smoke ghost don't leave any marks behind, does it?"

"Well, I don't know. I wouldn't like to say, since I never ran up
against one. But why do you make that remark, brother?"

"Looky there!"

Thad dramatically pointed down at his feet as he spoke, and
Maurice, turning his gaze in that quarter, instantly saw something
that caused him to draw in a quick breath and involuntarily clutch
the gun with a gesture of alarm.

There were plain marks on the ground, and even as inexperienced
woodsmen as the two boys could easily see that these had
undoubtedly been made by the big feet of a shuffling man!





CHAPTER XVII.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.


"He was here, all right!" said Thad, in an awed tone, as he looked
all around him.

Maurice took several steps forward, as if mechanically starting to
follow the plain imprints of those big shoes.

"Hold on, there, pard; you wouldn't want to chase after that
critter, now, would you? We haven't lost anybody, that I know
about. The best thing for us is to keep right along the road, and
mind our own business. Ain't I right?" demanded Thad.

"I reckon you are, son; and don't think I was so silly as to try
and follow that creeper. I'm not anxious to see him. Come on, the
quicker we get moving the better."

With that Maurice turned on his heel and started off.

"I don't want him to get the notion in his head we're scared about
it," he muttered; "but all the same I think we'd better shinny on
our own side, and move along."

"Keep that gun ready for business, Maurice," admonished the other,
who flourished his stick in a belligerent way while bringing up
the rear.

"Don't you fear about that, my friend. If anybody jumps out at us
I'm ready to give him a warm reception!"

Maurice spoke aloud. It was his hope that if the man might be
lingering near he would overhear the words, and take warning
accordingly.

They hurried along the dimly defined road. It must have been quite
some time since vehicles used this, for the marks of wheels were
in many places utterly obliterated by the rains of summer and
fall.

Three times they really got off the trail; but fortunately their
united vigilance told them of the fact before it was too late to
remedy it easily.

"Must be getting near George's place," grunted Thad, at last, for
he was almost out of breath, what with their haste, and the
necessity for keeping that head of his at all angles, so as to
forestall any treachery on the part of the enemy, whom he felt
sure must be dodging their trail all this time, waiting for a
chance to get in a telling blow.

"I'm afraid not. Seems to me Mr. Stallings said it was nearly a
mile past the swamp; and you see we've just got to the worst of
that."

"All right, then; keep hoofing it, pard. We've just made up our
minds that we're going to see George at home, and nothing ain't
going to stop us. Get that?" declared Thad.

"Just what I say. Come on again, if you've caught your wind."

Again they pushed on.

Their surroundings seemed even more dreadful than ever; and
Maurice realized for the first time what a fearful place a swamp
may seem, especially when danger is hovering about, and a hostile
figure may spring out from behind any tree.

Even the sudden harsh cawing of a crow that sprang up from the
ground and lodged on a branch startled Thad; and when a rabbit
bounded away through the brush alongside the road, Maurice
involuntarily threw his Marlin half way up to his shoulder as
though inclined to press the triggers.

"I hope we left him behind," said Thad, presently, when, for the
fiftieth time, he turned his head to look.

"But I don't believe we did," replied the other instantly. "See
here, you found that other footprint; what d'ye think of this?"

"He's been here ahead of us, as sure as you live. Oh, look! That
little twig jumped up into place right before my very eyes. Don't
you see what that means, Maurice? He passed along here only a
minute or so ahead of us. That twig didn't have time enough to get
back to its position up to now. Phew! Perhaps he's laying for us
further on."

"Well, what if he is? Do we go on?"

"Well, I guess yes. Let me carry the shooter now!" said Thad, as
he reached out his eager if trembling hand.

"Oh, no! What's the use changing? I'm as fresh as a daisy; and
besides, that stick just fits your hand. I'll give him a scare if
he tries to jump at us, never fear."

"Just as you say, Maurice; only PLEASE don't get excited and fill
me up with birdshot, instead of the thief."

"No danger, if you keep where you belong, in the rear. There's
some pretty suspicious looking trees ahead there, on both sides of
the road. We want to watch close now, Thad. Once we get by here,
I've a hunch the going may be better."

"Yes," said Thad, whirling his shillalah around in a lively way,
as a token of what he meant to do in case of an emergency.

By the time they reached the spot where the trees joined branches
across the dimly defined road both boys were in somewhat of a
feverish state of apprehension. They looked at each hoary old
trunk as if they believed every tree might conceal a crouching
enemy, ready to leap out and attack them.

Yet, strange to say, neither of them once thought of craning their
necks in order to survey what lay above.

Perhaps, had Thad done so, he might have received more or less of
a shock just about that time.

"Hark!" exclaimed Maurice, pulling up.

"That was a shout, wasn't it?" demanded his chum, his eyes seeking
those of the other instantly.

"I'm dead sure it was, and not an owl," replied Maurice.

"And it came from ahead there; didn't you think so?"

"It certainly did. Listen, there's more of the same kind. Now what
d'ye make of all that?" muttered Maurice.

"Somebody's coming this way, for I can hear the sound of running.
Say, perhaps it's the coons he told us about, the outlaws that
live in the swamp! Mebbe the sheriff's posse has stirred 'em up
like a hornet's nest, and they're on the jump!"

Maurice looked annoyed.

"If that's the case we ought to be hiding ourselves," he declared.
"Yes, but just remember, boy, that there's another thing bothering
us just now. What if we ran plump into the arms of that red-top
who's laying for us?"

"Well, then, let's drop down here behind a couple of these trees.
Perhaps they'll go past and never get a peep of us," suggested the
one who carried the double-barrel gun.

"No use," chirped Thad, immediately.

"And why not?" asked Maurice.

"They saw us; they know we're here; that's why."

"How do you know that?"

"I just saw a feller bob up along the road there. He swung his
arms over his head as he dropped down into another hollow. And
look, ain't that some more of the bunch, topping the rise? I tell
you, it's all off, Maurice; they've got us caged. Why, we can't
run away, and all that's left is to stay here, grin and bear it."

Thad sat down as though he believed it absolutely useless to take
the least step toward seeking safety in flight, but, indeed, both
of them were already partly winded with their efforts, so that
anything in the line of running might be deemed mere madness.

"Hide the packet then, quick! Stick it under that root there,
while no one is looking. Perhaps we can fool them yet!" hissed
Maurice, as a brilliant idea flashed through his brain.

"Bully for you, my boy! That's the ticket."

While he was speaking Thad drew the small package from his inside
pocket, where he had been carefully keeping it since leaving the
boat, and with one quick nervous movement thrust the same out of
sight under the convenient root.

No sign remained of his action, and he was fain to believe that no
human eyes save his own and those of Maurice could have witnessed
the act.

But it was not so.

"Say, they're coming on the jump!" exclaimed Maurice, who had
remained on his feet while the other squatted, the better to carry
out the process of secreting the precious packet.

"How many?" asked Thad, between quick breaths, induced by the
tremendous excitement of the occasion.

"Don't know, but a whole lot of 'em. And every mother's son seems
to be armed with some sort of gun. A fine chance we'd have against
such a husky bunch, if we showed signs of fight. Yet it does go
hard against the grain to give up without striking a blow."

Maurice gnashed his teeth and frowned while speaking, fingering
the lock of his Marlin nervously.

By this time Thad had risen to his knees, an overwhelming sense of
curiosity urging him on.

"Why, Maurice, that's funny!" he exclaimed, immediately

"I don't see it; what's struck you now, Thad?"

"Why, don't you remember what Mr. Stallings told us?"

"Sure I do--that these swamp rats were about as ugly a crowd to
handle as he had ever heard tell of; and I guess he was right; for
if I ever saw a tough lot of fellow citizens they're coming down
on us right now, five, six of 'em. Ugh!" growled Maurice.

"I think you'll live to take that back, old fellow," chuckled
Thad, who seemed to be far less alarmed than he had been a brief
time previously, though still excited.

"What ails you?" asked the other, querulously.

"Look for yourself. Are those chaps white men or coons?"

"Why, I reckon they all seem to be white, so far as I can see--oh!
I declare, I remember now--"

"The storekeeper told us those bad men were niggers!"

"Right; that's what he said. Still, these may be another lot,
connected with your friend with the sorrel-top!" declared Maurice,
who died hard.

"Rats! You know now just as well as I do that yonder is the
sheriff and his posse! Perhaps they think we're some of the
riffraff they've been chasing, and that's why they keep aiming
their blamed old guns at us that way. Hadn't we better hold up our
arms, Maurice, and give 'em to understand that we surrender? Some
fool might think it fine to take a snapshot at us and explain
afterwards he thought we meant to fight!"

"That's right, Thad; a clever idea. So up you go, my boy."

Maurice, as he spoke, allowed the gun to fall at his feet, and
elevated both hands as high as he could get them. Thad hastened to
follow suit, and it might be he unconsciously cast his eyes upward
at the same instant, as though eager to see just how his chum held
his.

A sudden spasm seemed to shoot through the frame of Thad, and his
companion heard him give utterance to an exclamation; but being so
intensely interested in the coming of the runners, who were now
very close, he made no comment, nor did he ask questions.

The men quickly closed in around them.

Maurice realized that what his chum had guessed must surely be the
truth. He even decided which of the six was the sheriff; for the
storekeeper at Morehead Landing had described this individual to
him, so that he might know him if they ever met.

"Hello, Mr. Jerrold! Glad to meet up with you, sir. Mr. Stallings
told us you were out after some game. But he said it was black
meat you wanted, not white," sang out Maurice, cheerily; and when
he chose to make himself agreeable the young Kentuckian could win
over nearly any man.

"Seems like yuh know me, youngster. Who-all be yuh, anyhow, and
what yuh doin' thisaways. I'd like tuh know right well?"

But the sheriff had at the same time made a motion to his men, and
all show of weapons vanished. He knew that there was no need of
violence in this case.

Maurice quickly told him who they were, and that, desiring to see
George Stormway, bearing good news from the North, they had been
directed along the road by the friendly storekeeper.

"Don't s'pose now, boys, yuh seen anything o' a pair o' black
sheep? We done skeered 'em up outen the swamp, an' when our dawgs
gits heah we s'pect tuh track 'em down once foh all," observed the
sheriff, now apparently ready to shake hands with the two
voyagers.

"No; we haven't met a single person, black or white, on the trail;
but we have reason to believe that there's a man hiding around
here who wanted to waylay us and rob us."

Thereupon, as the sheriff asked the reason he had for believing
such a thing, Maurice started in to explain. He told of finding
something of value on the boat that belonged to George Stormway's
wife, Bunny Badgeley that was--how the man with the red-top had
tried to steal the packet and was baffled by reason of Thad's
cunning trick; how his chum had seen him just outside the hamlet
of Morehead Landing, the tracks on the road, and finally the
figure seen by the clump of bushes.

"Yes," broke in Thad just then, and his chum saw that an expansive
grin covered his face as he spoke, "and if the gentlemen will only
take a squint up over their heads they will see the party in
question squattin' on that limb right above us, where he hid
himself, I reckon, thinkin' to just drop down on whichever held
the gun!"

Then there was an immediate craning of necks; and loud laughs from
the members of the Mississippi sheriff's posse attested to the
fact that they had discovered what strange fruit that live oak
bore.





CHAPTER XVIII.

THE GREAT GOOD NEWS.


"It's a big fat 'possom!" shouted one of the posse, swinging his
gun upward, as though getting ready to shoot."

"You're away off, Dexter; look closer and you can see the ringed
tail of a 'coon!" jeered a second.

"If we had the dawgs hyah we'd have a heap o' sport, gents; but as
it is, I reckon as how we'll jest have tuh fill him full o' lead,
an' let her go at that!" exclaimed a third member of the party.

These various remarks, while evidently spoken in a spirit of
levity, aroused strenuous opposition above. There was an immediate
movement of the object straddling the limb. Then two arms waved
vigorously, and a high-pitched voice sounded:

"Hold on, thar, yo-uns! I ain't a 'coon, but I'm acomin' down
right smart, all the samee. Don't let loose on me, boys; I ain't
wuth the powder. I jest wants some un tuh kick me for bein' sech a
fool as tuh think you-uns was thet bunch o' swamp-hiders!"

The speaker slid along the limb to the body of the tree and began
to make his way toward the ground.

Maurice looked at Thad, and there was perplexity in his eyes. He
understood the sly tactics of the red-headed man, and wondered
whether they would succeed in hoodwinking the sheriff and his
posse.

The question was soon answered, for hardly had the cracker reached
the ground than Sheriff Jerrold stepped up to him, that piercing
eye fastened on the ugly face of the climber.

"Yer under arrest, Jeff Corbley!" he said, making a motion to one
of the others to bind the fellow.

"Me? What fur, sheriff? I declar I jest clim' thet tree 'cause I
was skeered. I hed a squint o' yer crowd acomin' over the rise,
an' I spected 'twar them coons hustling out fur grub. They got it
in fur me, an' I jest het up ther tree quicker nor lightnin'."

But the sheriff was not so easily deceived.

"What's this yer grippin' in yer hand, Jeff? A rock big enough to
knock a man silly. Thought tuh drap in down on the head o' this
hyah youngster, didn't yuh? Easy way tuh git the upper hand o'
him, yuh spected. Shucks! Don't yuh open that mouth o' yourn tuh
say another word. We been watchin' yuh a long time, Jeff, an' this
time yah make tracks outen the county, OR PAY THE FREIGHT!"

The sheriff made a suggestive motion with his hand in the
direction of his neck. Evidently the red-headed man understood.

"Oh, I'll go, all right, sheriff. I kinder hed a sneakin' notion
fur a long time thet yuh hed it in fur me. How long do I git?" he
whined, as his hands were bound fast behind his back.

"We'll give yuh jest twelve hours arter we git tuh Morehead. Ef so
be yuh ain't outen the county by then it's touch an' go with yuh.
A hundred dollars tuh the man as draps yuh," remarked the
official, with a dreadful calmness.

"Twelve hours is a might short time tuh do it hin, sheriff; but
I'll make the try, sho. I'm sick o' this place, anyway."

"And the place are sure sick o' you, Jeff; so it's even all
'round," replied the sheriff, turning his back on Jeff.

The two boys had listened to these little pleasantries with
mingled feelings. It was really the first time they had ever been
so close to a possible tragedy, and when they found that these
grim men did not mean to hang the wretched Jeff both breathed
easier.

He had been something of a thorn in their flesh and doubtless was
an evil bird whichever way he might be looked at; still, they had
no desire to see him meet such a terrible end.

"I heard the dawgs along over there, Kurnel," remarked one of the
posse, just about this time.

The sheriff brightened up immediately. He had evidently set his
mind on the job of cleaning up the band of black thieves who had
for so long a time sheltered themselves in the swamp, and preyed
upon the neighboring planters; and the coming of the dogs promised
to add to the chances of ultimate success.

"Then we must be hiking, boys. Glad tuh have met you both, an'
wish yuh all success. If so be as yuh say, theys some good news
foh George, jest congratulate him foh me, will yuh? He's a good
feller, George is, an' has heaps o' friends hyahabouts."

He shook hands gravely with each of the boys, after which Sheriff
Jerrold started along the dimly defined road. The prisoner, Jeff,
was in the middle of the squad, and did not manifest any great
enthusiasm about hastening away; but being a victim of
circumstances he just had to run when his captors chose.

Maurice looked at his chum and laughed.

"Say, wasn't that the funniest thing ever?" he exclaimed. "Just to
think of that scamp settling himself up there among the leaves of
that tree, intending to jump us unawares!"

"Yes," observed Thad, with a shrug of his shoulders, "and he meant
to drop that big dornick on your head, because you had the gun.
Then, while I was stunned with surprise, I reckon he expected to
let go and jump me. I'm not a bit sorry that Jeff is going to get
his medicine. If ever a man's face told his character his does.
And ten to one he's a big bully, and a wife beater, at home."

"But how did you happen to get on to his trick, for it was you who
first discovered him sitting there, and told the rest?"

"Well," said Thad, reflectively. It just happened, that's all.
When you said how we ought to hold up our hands--"

"Hold on; it was you spoke about that same thing first," corrected
his chum.

"Well, you were the first to do it, and when I followed suit,
seemed as if my eyes followed my hands up like I wanted to see
that I did it the same as you. That was the luckiest thing ever,
for you see I just happened to spy him move his leg. Looked like
he was kind of afraid that he might be seen, and was hitchin'
along to get behind more leaves."

"But you didn't say anything right away, Thad?"

"Just couldn't, that's why; I was so knocked slabwise and full of
laugh. But I knew I ought to let that sheriff into the secret,
'cause he was so mighty anxious to grab some feller. So I opened
up. My! But didn't Jeff come down quick?" and now Thad chuckled
over the recollection of that hurried descent.

"He just had to; because, you see, he was afraid all the time one
of the boys might take a notion to shoot. But as the thing is all
over, suppose we shove along," suggested Maurice.

"Good. My mind is easy now, with that sneaker out of the way. What
d'ye suppose Jeff meant to do?" asked the other, as he fell in at
the side of his chum when Maurice started off.

"Rob us, that's clear. He saw that money, all right, when he
peeked in at the window of the shanty-boat, and was wild to get
it. Then, after his bully little rush when we were ashore, to find
that he had been fooled made him madder than a wet hen; and this
time he wanted to make sure."

Thad drew a long sigh, but made no answer. His thoughts were
doubtless serious enough, as he recollected that heavy stone which
Jeff had not dared drop while descending from the tree; also the
ugly look of the desperado's face.

Just as Maurice had predicted, the country began to assume a more
cheerful appearance after they had left the swamp behind. It was
not long before they came to a cabin, where the smoke was rising
above the low roof and several dirty-faced children played before
the door, where several lean hogs were grunting in the mud.

"Is this George's place?" queried Thad, in some dismay; for
somehow he had been mentally picturing a far different scene.

"I reckon not. I was told that his wife was a superior woman, who
once on a time used to teach school. She wouldn't be apt to let
her youngsters look like this, even if money was scarce. Wait up,
and I'll put the question."

Maurice approached the door. A yellow dog began to bark furiously,
the three children ran like frightened sheep, since they seldom
saw strangers there, and immediately a slatternly looking woman
with the customary thin face of the "poor white trash" of the
South made her appearance at the door.

"There's a snuff-dipper for you," said Maurice in a whisper to his
chum, as he noted the signs about the mouth of the squatter's
wife.

The woman was surveying them with wonder, and not a little awe.

"We want to find George Stormway's place; can you tell us how far
along it lies?" asked the boy, politely.

It was wonderful how her tired face brightened up. Perhaps she had
not heard such a pleasant voice for ages; and dim echoes of some
far off past had been awakened.

"Sho I kin, stranger. It be the second house 'long. Hyah, Danny,
yuh gwine tuh show these hyah gentlemen the Stormway place. Git a
move on yuh, now, er I'll peel the hide from yuh back, sho. Yuh
see," she added, turning once more to the visitors, "Danny, he's
ben over tuh take his lesson from Missus Stormway once a week. He
kin read tuh beat the band. Git erlong, Danny, an' yuh 'member
what I sez!"

Of course there was no necessity for a guide, since they were so
near their destination. Maurice believed he could understand the
motive that influenced the woman of the house--she hoped these
strangers might be liberal enough to bestow a nickel upon Danny
for his services; and possibly her stock of snuff was running low.

But they were so glad to know that the journey was nearly over
that they made no objection. Maurice believed he could spare a
nickel to square accounts.

Danny trotted on ahead. He was a shy little chap, barefooted, of
course, and with a ragged shirt and baggy trousers that had
evidently been made from a gunny-sack.

Maurice happened to have an old newspaper in his pocket, which
contained a few illustrations. It might serve the budding genius
as a means for advancing his reading abilities; and so he called
Danny back, to present it to him, at the same time also handing
over the coveted coin.

For they had passed another shack, where the squalor was even more
positive than in the former case, and come in sight of George's
home.

"Bully!" Thad could not help saying, as soon as his eager eyes
alighted on the little cabin.

Maurice understood just how he felt; indeed, he was experiencing
the same sense of relief; for the sight of filth and poverty
combined is a terrible thing.

But the Stormway cabin was different. Everywhere could be seen
evidences of a woman's hand. Flowers adorned the beds in front,
and in the rear there were vegetables calculated to give the
family many a meal.

Here, as everywhere, a couple of dogs barked in noisy greeting;
but to the boys even these yellow curs seemed of a different breed
from those guarding other shacks where poverty abounded.

And while the three children playing before the door were
barefooted and had soiled faces, still, as Thad expressed it, this
was "clean dirt," by which he meant that they undoubtedly must
have accumulated it inside of an hour or two, for there was
abundant evidence that water was freely used at this place.

Eagerly the boys waited to see what the daughter of old The.
Badgeley looked like. No woman could stand such a life of care and
want without showing the lines on her face; but when she came to
the door to see what all the racket meant, Thad just threw up his
hat and let out a genuine whoop, he was so glad.

Even in her cheap calico dress the woman showed her caliber. Dirt
and Mrs. Stormway evidently were at daggers' points, and could not
live peaceably together under the same roof. It was a relief just
to look at her face, after what they had recently seen.

And when she talked, while there was the Southern accent to some
extent, they missed that twang and peculiar type of expression so
common among the poor whites.

"This is Mrs. Stormway, I reckon?" said Maurice, as he came up.

"Yes, that is my name, sir," she replied, while her face lighted
up with some sort of expectancy.

"My name is Thad Tucker, and I'm from Kentucky, ma'am!"

"Oh! Thad Tucker! Then you are the boy father used to write about?
What on earth brings you away down here? Have you come to see me?"

She was holding his hand now, plainly excited.

A man had followed her to the door. He was white and thin, but had
a face that Maurice liked at first sight. If this was George, as
he believed, then it was worth while that they go to all this
trouble to bring him good news.

"This is my friend, Maurice Pemberton. He's from old Kentucky,
too. You see," said Thad, hardly able to phrase a connected story
in his excitement, "the folks he was livin' with broke up, and he
was left with nary a home. Now, I'd been keepin' house on the
shanty-boat old The.--I mean your father, give me when he was
carried off to the hospital. Maurice he got a letter from his
Uncle Ambrose, telling him to be in New Orleans in February, and
he'd give him a berth on the big tramp steamer he's captain of. So
Maurice and me we made up our minds to drift down South on our
shanty-boat."

"And on your way you determined to stop over and see me. How good
of you, Thad Tucker. Oh, I am so glad to see you! Now I can hear
about my poor father's passing. All I know was contained in a
short letter from the authorities of the hospital, saying he had
been taken there and died. There was money enough found on his
person to pay for burying him, but that was all. Come here,
George, I want you to meet my father's young friend, Thad Tucker.
You remember reading about him."

The thin man advanced with rather tottering steps, but a pleasant
smile on his face. Maurice wondered whether what Kim. Stallings
had said would prove true; and if this man, racked by malaria,
could regain his health if he changed his home to higher ground.

"But you see I didn't know where you were all this time, only that
it was somewhere down South. It was only the other day that, just
by some luck, I happened to be hunting a lost trap, when I found
something that told us where you lived," explained Thad, fumbling
in his pocket.

"And," went on Maurice, taking up the story where his chum
faltered, "as we were only a short distance up the river from
Morehead, we made up our minds that we must meet with Bunny."

"And give her this," with which words Thad fished out the packet
and thrust it hurriedly into the woman's hands.

"Oh, what is it?" she asked, beginning to tremble, not with fear,
but delicious eagerness and anticipation.

"Something your dad wanted to get to you. He tried to tell me
about it just when he was took, but I couldn't understand him. It
was lyin' in a hole back of the lining of the boat, and just where
he kept the few muskrat traps he owned," finished Thad.

Mrs. Stormway began to undo the string, though her hands trembled
so she could hardly make much progress. Finally George himself had
to take possession and cut the cord with a knife.

When he opened the little rusty covered diary and those beautiful
yellowback government gold notes fluttered to the ground there was
a tense silence. Both George and his wife could not believe their
eyes. Perhaps, to tell the truth, they had never before seen even
one yellowback note, and hardly understood what they were.

"There's just three hundred and thirty dollars, all in good gold
bills issued by the United States Government. And he meant it for
you, ma'am, 'cause he says so in his diary. I reckon he wanted to
fetch it down when he came in the winter; but he never made the
ripple."

While Thad was explaining in this manner George and Maurice were
picking up the precious bills. The man was so excited he could
hardly speak; but when he stood there with the little book in his
hand, he looked at his wife and she at him. Then they rushed into
each others' arms, while the boys winked hard to keep the tears
from flowing. It was an affecting sight, indeed.

"Now we can get away from here. Now we can go on a farm in the
uplands, where you will get strong and well, George. Oh, I am so
happy I hardly know what to do! And to think that father saved all
this money for me! And that you brought it to us, just when it
looked so dark that even I was beginning to be afraid!"

Before Thad knew what she meant to do George's wife was kissing
him, and George shaking his hand furiously. Maurice came in for a
second edition of the grateful couple's thanksgiving; but on the
whole both boys stood the ordeal fairly well.

"Come in and rest yourselves, my dear boys. You have brought me
blessed news today, and I shall never forget it; never. You must
stay over night with us, because there is so much I want to know
about him. We haven't much to offer you in the way of food, but
George here can borrow Captain Peek's mule and go to the store for
things."

"Not for us," said Maurice, decidedly; "we will be only too glad
to stop over with you one night, since you insist, for, of course,
there is lots my chum can tell you. And, by the way, Mr. Stallings
sent this package to Mrs. Stormway. I think it's got some coffee
in anyhow, for we smelled it. He knew we had some good news for
you, and wanted to say that he was mighty glad George would have a
chance to pull up stakes and get out of this lowland."

The package did contain several articles in the line of groceries,
which the good-hearted storekeeper judged the Stormways would be
out of, and when she saw this evidence of his thoughtfulness the
eyes of George's wife filled with tears, even though she laughed
and appeared light-hearted.





CHAPTER XIX.

ONCE MORE AFLOAT.


The balance of that day and the evening would
long be remembered by the boys. Maurice found the three children
bright and interesting; nor was that to be wondered at when they
had so intelligent a mother to guide them along the way.

George had considered the future so often, in case he ever had the
chance to get on an upland farm, that he had his plans all laid
out.

He looked ten per cent better by the time night settled in around
that little shack in the wilderness, and even doubting Thad made
up his mind that George was going to get well.

And that night was one of pleasant intercourse. There were scant
rations in the cabin, but then Bunny knew how to cook, and what
they had was a treat to the boys, accustomed to looking after
themselves so long. The hoe cake was browned just right and tasted
better than anything the boys had eaten for a long while, and
somehow the coffee was better than they had been able to brew.

In the morning George took the boys aside.

"I'm agoin' to ask you boys to do me a great favor," he said,
mysteriously.

Maurice looked at Thad and the latter turned white. He feared that
George meant to insist upon their sharing his little pile, and
neither of them would have touched one cent on any account.

"Yes, what's that, George?" asked Maurice, who on second thought
remembered that that subject had been threshed over on the
preceding night, when the good woman had tried to make them accept
a gift to help them along and they had firmly declined.

"Why, you see, I'm that afraid of bein' robbed now that it worried
me a heap. Suppose I jest hold out that odd thirty and let you
take the three hundred over to Kim Stallings to keep for me till I
want it? I'd be mighty much easier in my mind, boys, if you would
oblige."

Thad waited for his chum to say, for in a ease of this kind he
always deferred to Maurice as being better able to decide.

"To be sure, we will, George; I didn't want to mention it to you,
but was a little afraid something might happen to the money. Are
you able to leave home today? Could you borrow that mule you spoke
of and go with us to Morehead? It would be better to get some
paper from Kim to secure you?"

George thought he could make the journey, especially with the
mule. And besides, there were some things he would dearly love to
fetch back with him--things that Bunny had long gone without, for
the boys had seen that she was barefooted.

So it was arranged, to the delight of the good woman and the three
young Stormways. This had been a great event in the lives of the
boy and two girls, and they never wearied of hanging about the
young fellow who had known "mon's daddy."

The mule was borrowed from the obliging neighbor, and about nine
in the morning they started for Morehead, George being mounted on
the back of the animal, though he tried to insist upon their
taking turns.

But at this both boys laughed in scorn. Why, that five miles would
only be a "flea bite," as Thad declared, to them; and they really
needed the exercise, after being cooped up so long aboard the
little old Tramp,

Bunny saw them depart with considerable emotion. Thad was afraid
she would insist on kissing him again, but the good woman
contented herself with squeezing his hands and telling him once
more what a blessing he had brought to her poor little home.

George was interested in the tree that had contained such queer
fruit, and as they halted under its branches for a brief spell the
boys had to relate the story over again.

They had reached a point nearly two-thirds of the way to the river
hamlet when they heard a great barking and baying of dogs. The
sound appeared to come from over beyond the big timber.

"Seeds like the sheriff he's barking up the tree at last. I jedge
he's got them coons separated from ther hook in the swamp, an' if
that's so they ain't agoin' to 'scape him this time," remarked
George, as they stopped to listen.

The sounds grew fainter, however, showing that the chase must be
leading away from the road they followed.

"I'm right glad of that," remarked Thad, "for d'ye know, Maurice,
I'd sure hate to see any more prisoners in the hands of that
posse."

"Reckon there wouldn't be much danger o' that," remarked George,
with a significant nod, which Maurice took to mean that if caught
those black criminals might meet with a short shrift.

He could hardly believe that, however, since Sheriff Jerrold was a
duly authorized officer of the law and sworn to see it carried out
in the proper manner.

They arrived at the river before noon.

"There she is!" exclaimed Thad, eagerly pointing, and George saw
that it was a little squatty shanty-boat he meant.

"Why, I hope you didn't think anybody would be so mean as to steal
our Tramp?" demanded Maurice, although he, too, experienced more
or less lively satisfaction to once more set eyes on the clumsy
craft that had so long been their home.

"Well, down in this country nobody can tell. They say that if a
man does anything wrong his first idea is to hook a boat, no
matter what kind, the nearest he can lay hands on, and cut
downstream. But the sheriff is stirring things up just now, and
bad men must lie low. Anyhow, there's our bully old Tramp, right
side up with care."

Kim Stallings was glad to see George again, and when he heard what
glorious luck had befallen him, there was genuine warmth in the
handshake he thrust upon the weak man.

Of course, he was only too willing to act as custodian for the
three hundred dollars, and gave George a receipt for the money.
When he had settled on the upland farm he meant to rent, he could
easily get what the store-keeper was holding for him.

And now it was high time our boys once more started on their
voyage.

Hundreds of miles still separated them from their destination, and
no one could prophesy what difficulties must be faced and overcome
before they eventually brought up in New Orleans.

It was just noon when they let go and pushed out upon the friendly
bosom of the mighty Mississippi.

Kim and George gave them a parting salute, which the voyagers sent
back with a good will. Then shortly a bend cut them off from view,
and the little episode was numbered with the past.

"Anyhow, it was a bully time we had there," said Thad, as he
started to knock some sort of lunch together, while his chum
looked after piloting the boat.

"You bet it was, and neither of us will ever forget it. When Bunny
and Greorge saw that bunch of yellow boys, didn't they stare
though? I came near blubbering myself, honest, Thad, I was that
worked up," confessed Maurice, frankly.

"Oh! I slobbered right over, only you didn't see me, because I got
behind. I'm right glad we did it; and wasn't that a hunky-dory
find, though? Every time I set eyes on that hole I'll just have to
think of the great luck we had."

The old life was taken up again. Borne along on the rapid current
of the powerful river, they made mile after mile as the day wore
on.

Nothing of moment occurred to disturb the serenity of the scene,
and as evening approached they hunted as usual for a good place
where the shanty-boat could be tied up for the night.

Once they thought this had been found when what seemed to be the
mouth of a stream was sighted ahead; but as they pushed in it was
only to find that another floating family had pre-empted the
place.

The boys might have even remained had they seemed to be anything
like Bob Archiable, for instance, the clock mender of earlier
days, but the looks of the three men they saw quite discouraged
them.

"Out we go again," muttered Maurice, as they cleared the mouth of
the creek, followed by shouts from the owners of the other craft,
who called to them to pull in and "have a good time."

Our boys knew only too well what that implied, for liquor and
cards must form the sum total of what these rough characters
called a "good time," and they wanted none of that.

So it was just about dark before they found a chance to tie up to
a friendly tree that chanced to be close enough to the edge of the
bank to take their short cable.

Supper was prepared as usual. The provisions secured from the
warm-hearted storekeeper of Morehead Landing enabled them to
spread themselves to some extent. And Thad declared that life was
worth living again, as he sat there after eating, and lighted his
pipe for a smoke.

"What so sober about, Thad?" asked the other, when he had been
watching his chum's face for some little time.

Thad looked up, and grinned in his usual happy way.

"Oh! it ain't that I'm feeling bad, for I reckon if any feller has
a right to call himself lucky that's me. Where would I be now if
it hadn't been for you inviting me to make this cruise--"

"Here, don't you get to harping along like that again, my boy.
Didn't you promise to call it square? And do you suppose for one
little minute that I'd be here unless you were? Why, in the first
place the boat belonged to you. I didn't have half enough money to
take me all the way to Orleans; and I just reckon I'd had a tough
deal trying to negotiate more, the way things went at our home
town. Now, just what were you thinking about? I bet I can give a
guess."

"Well, what?" demanded Thad, quickly.

"It wasn't about George and Bunny, because then you'd have had a
smile on that face of yours. Seems to me you must have been
wondering if they got 'em!"

"Meanin' the coons of the swamp? Yes, that's what I had on my
mind. I never saw one of 'em, and yet somehow I keep a-wonderin'
whether they had a square show. Oh! well, it ain't any of our
business; and I reckon they must've been a bad lot, from what Kim
said. But I'm right glad they didn't get 'em while we happened to
be there, Maurice."

"That's me, every time. But forget it, and let's talk about what
we expect to do down below. Here's the charts, such as they are,
and none too reliable at the best. We ought to study 'em time and
again, because we may want to take a cut-off and save twenty miles
or more."

"Don't they say that's dangerous work?" asked Thad.

"Well, yes, it is, sometimes; but there are several places where
all the drifters pass through. You know our bully good friend. Bob
Archiable, marked two on the map. He's used 'em several years in
succession, he said."

"Yes, that's so; but seems to me he said we'd better keep our eyes
and ears open all the way down, and ask questions. Sometimes these
cut-offs fill up, and then a shanty-boat gets lost in a heap of
cross canals. He says they're like hen tracks sometimes."

"Well," remarked Maurice, thoughtfully, "it would be a pretty
tough deal if WE ever got mixed up in one of those puzzles. We're
short of grub, and there's only a few dozen shells left. Yes, I
reckon we will go mighty slow about leaving the old creek and
dipping into any of these tempting canals."

So they chatted and exchanged views as they sat there until both
grew sleepy, when the cozy bunks coaxed them into retiring.

Nothing occurred to annoy them during the night; though once Thad
awoke suddenly and sat up with a low cry on his lips.

Maurice never heard what the nature of his dream might be; but he
could give a good guess and felt that it must in some way be
connected with those fugitive blacks of the swamp, and the coming
of that sheriff's posse with the fierce dogs.

In the morning they were early astir.

It seemed as though they had been away from home a long time after
that one night spent with the Stormways. Thad remarked how natural
it was to get breakfast again; and Maurice said something along
the same lines as he went ashore to gather up a supply of firewood
for future use.

Again they moved with the current, always heading south. Every
mile passed over counted, since it took them nearer the point for
which they were aiming.

Thus several days glided along.

Bad weather alternated with good, but they were wise enough to
prepare in peace for war; and thus did not get caught napping when
trouble descended upon them.

As the days passed they talked less and less of what had gone by,
and began to take a keener interest in what lay ahead.

Now and then the little old Marlin was called on to supply them
with a game supper; and never did it fail to do its duty when the
chances were right; so that, on the whole, they fared pretty well,
and had no complaint coming.

When two weeks had passed since that night with George Stormways
and his family, they were down in the neighborhood made famous
during the Civil War; for Vicksburg lay not more than ten miles
ahead.

They had been wonderfully favored during this time, and no
accident had occurred to mar the run, the weather being on the
whole fair, though one cold storm caught them unprepared and gave
them a bad night.

That was a time when Thad's prophecies failed to save them from
inconvenience; but those who endeavor to read the weather are not
bothered by an occasional upset in their calculations, and on the
very next occasion he came to time just as smiling as ever.

The river seemed to be growing with each passing day, and
stretched so far into the west that there were times when they
could dimly see the opposite bank, which Maurice declared must be
ten miles distant; though again it would not be anything like that
to the Arkansas shore.

But they had now passed the southern border of the state, and he
announced that the land they were gazing at far over the tumbling
waters was that of Louisiana, the very state for which they were
bound.

From this time on they could not expect to make such good
progress, because of the unusual care that must be taken in order
to keep them from losing themselves in one of the false channels.

Again and again would they be tempted to shorten their day's trip
by cutting into one of these enticing necks; but Maurice had
resolved that he would not allow such a thing, and in the end it
proved a wise precaution.

He believed that an ounce of prevention was better than a pound of
cure, as it certainly is under all circumstances, and especially
during a water voyage down such a treacherous stream as the
Mississippi.

They began to have adventures with strolling darkies who visited
them after they had tied up for the night; and once when a noisy
crowd had threatened to do them bodily harm because the boys had
declined to make them a present of tobacco and strong drink, both
of them had to do guard duty during the night for fear of an
attack.

All these things told them that they were now getting down into
the sunny South, and that they would meet with disappointments
there as well as in other places, for true it is things seem more
alluring at a distance. But both boys were sturdy in body and
determined in spirit, so that they were not apt to be discouraged
by a few backsets of this character.





CHAPTER XX.

ON A PLANTATION IN DIXIE LAND.


Once below Vicksburg and the two boys felt that they were doing
well.

True, many difficulties had arisen to give them a chance to show
their grit and backbone. Maurice was of the opinion that they had
come out of these conflicts with flying colors, and each victory
seemed to renew their self confidence, as though that were the
true reason for the encounter.

There was no lack of shooting in this region, for ducks traded
between the river and adjacent lagoons at all hours of the day,
and many times Maurice was able to bring down a feathered pilgrim
of the air with a shot from the deck of the shanty-boat itself,
retrieving the same with a nail fastened to the end of one of the
poles.

What interested the boys most were the cotton fields that they
began to see.

Of course, both were familiar with cotton: in many of its aspects,
having been born and brought up close to the Kentucky border; but
these big fields where they could see myriads of the open bolls
not yet culled, late as the season was, caused them much pleasure.

And the negroes became more jovial the farther south they went. It
seemed as if the black man in migrating north left his natural
condition behind, and assumed many of the cares of the white man.
Down in the cotton country he was at his best, full of laughter,
careless of tomorrow so long as he had a dime in his ragged
trousers, and of course light-fingered when he saw a chance to
lift anything and no one appeared to be looking.

The boys had a lot of fun with some of these good natured darkies
who came about the fire they were accustomed to starting on shore
when the occasion allowed.

Sometimes they bribed them to dance a hoedown, or sing songs as
the spirit moved.

Maurice was surprised to find that they favored the sentimental
songs of the day, such as were being sung in the North. He
wondered so at this that finally he asked one fellow, a gray-
headed old chap, what had become of the negro melodies once so
famous, and now so seldom heard.

Then he learned that the negro of the South had reached a stage of
progress wherein he did not wish to be reminded of the fact that
he was once a slave and the property of a white master; and as
most of those dear old songs are along that line he gives them the
go-by when choosing his minstrel lays.

But by a little species of bribery they managed to induce some of
their visitors to sing the "S'wanee Ribber," "Massa's in de Cold,
Cold Groun'," "Black Joe," and others of a similar nature.

"Dear Ole Hom'ny Corn" seemed to be a prime favorite among them,
and the boys themselves never tired of joining in the chorus.

After they had lost several articles from some of these blacks
pilfering they learned to keep the cabin door locked when going
ashore. If bent on stealing, the southern negro can accomplish his
purpose in spite of watchful eyes, since there will come a moment
when attention is directed in another quarter, and like a shadow
he will creep aboard and accomplish his end.

Another thing began to trouble them about now, and this was the
fact that their slender stock of money had entirely given out,
with some weeks ahead before Uncle Ambrose could be expected to
come to the rescue.

Hence it became necessary that they find some means of earning
something.

Thad could fall back upon his experience as a carpenter, and if he
could get employment now and then might bring in enough of the
needful to supply them with the necessities of life.

Maurice on his part would only too willingly have done anything in
his line if he could find a chance. He was a pretty fair
bookkeeper, but it did not seem likely that he would run across
any one in this part of the country who wanted his books balanced.

Still both of them began to be on the lookout for opportunities,
determined to do whatever their hand came in contact with.

It was at Gibson's Landing that Thad struck his first chance.

Things were getting rather low, and they had not enjoyed a cup of
coffee for two days, on account of a lack of supplies or the
wherewithal to purchase the same.

Maurice was cleaning some fish they had taken that day when he saw
Thad coming at an unusually swift pace, and a look on his face
that spoke volumes.

"And now what!?" he demanded, as his partner sprang aboard.

"Bully news--I've struck a job. Last a week or so, and give us
enough cash to carry us through with careful nursing. And that
ain't the whole of it, either," was the way he broke loose.

"It's good as far as you've gone; now what else can there be to
make you feel so fine!" demanded Maurice.

"Mr. Simon Buckley--"

"Who's Mr. Simon Buckley?"

"Why, I was just going to tell you--he's a rich planter back here
a bit. I happened to mention the fact that I was a carpenter
looking for a job and he jumped on to me and said he was looking
for just such a man."

"Hurrah!" broke in the other, his face full of smiles.

"Then we got to talking," Thad continued, "and I told him all
about what we were trying to do, and he seemed interested and
asked questions, principally about you. What d'ye think; he knows
your Uncle Ambrose; why once, many years ago they were together in
Cuba? And he wants both of us to come with him tomorrow when he
starts back to his home; because he says he's got his books in a
terrible muss, and would be mighty glad to have you straighten 'em
out; and what d'ye think of all that, eh!"

Maurice smiled at his enthusiasm, but was certainly feeling a bit
the same way himself.

"Why, all I can say is what you're so fond of shouting whenever
any good luck floats our way--bully, bully, bully all around! I
felt sure we'd strike something before the worst came; and as
usual it was you who had to run across it. But how are we going to
leave our floating home while we pay this week's visit to the
plantation of Mr. Buckleyl"

"I thought of that when he said you must come, too, and when I
spoke of it to him he told me of a man he knew living on the
river--that's his shanty you see below there, with the chimney on
the outside--who would look after the boat and Dixie for a dollar
and be glad of the chance. It's all fixed, my boy, and you needn't
worry a bit. We'll be sure of our grub for a week, see something
of a simon-true Southern plantation, earn twenty dollars between
us, and get in great shape for business. Say, is it all right?"

Maurice, of course, declared that it was, and thereupon Thad did
one of his regular hornpipes, to the amusement of some darkies on
the shore, who began mocking him, but in a way that did not give
offense.

So that night they made arrangement with the man Mr. Buckley
recommended to have him keep their boat in his care, along with
the yellow dog.

In the morning they again bade farewell to their comfortable
floating home for a brief time, and meeting the planter, joined
him in a ride to the interior where his plantation was located.

Mr. Simon Buckley was a character very interesting to Maurice.

He had been something of a soldier of fortune since the Civil War
and drifted pretty much around the whole world, so that he was a
walking encyclopedia of knowledge upon almost any subject.

What interested Maurice most of all was his association with Uncle
Ambrose in Cuba many years before. It was with considerable
surprise that the lad learned how his steady-going relative had
once upon a time been a wild blade, an adventurer as it were,
ready to take up with anything that promised excitement, and a
hope of gain in a fairly decent way.

Simon Buckley had been very fond of Anthony, it would seem, and
his delight at running across a nephew of his old comrade was
unmistakable.

The voyagers had never met with a luckier bit of fortune than when
Thad chanced to interview this veteran.

Mr. Buckley had long ago settled down to a humdrum life as a
planter, having wedded the daughter of a big man in the parish.
When the old spirit of turbulence grew too strong within him to
resist lie had to work it off by a bear hunt in the Mississippi
canebrakes, or perhaps a lynching bee--he did not state this
latter positively, but there was something in the wink he gave the
boys while speaking of such things that told them the truth.

They were too wise to think of starting an argument with a
Southern man upon a subject of which they had a very small amount
of information, and which entered upon his daily life, so they
said nothing while he was present.

That ride was one long to be remembered, for they saw things that
might never have come under their observation otherwise.

Various plantations were passed, and collections of negro cabins,
around which hosts of youngsters were playing, as free from care
as the rabbit that ran across the road--indeed, much more so, for
Bunny had to look sharp lest he afford a meal for one of his many
enemies, while these pickaninnies had their daily wants supplied,
and grew up like so many puppies.

Along about noon they reached their destination.

The Buckley plantation was well known in that section as one of
the best in western Mississippi.

Of course, the main staple was cotton, king of the South; but
there were various other products that the owner raised. He had a
grinding mill and produced a large amount of sugar and molasses in
season. Then on some lowlands he grew rice of a superior quality.
His ambition being to constantly improve on what had been produced
the preceding season, his experience all over the world proved of
value to him now, when he could calmly review what he had seen and
profit by it.

The place seemed an ideal Southern plantation to Maurice, and he
soon wished he had a camera along with which to secure some views
that he could carry with him wherever he went. As the owner had a
weakness that way, the want was supplied before they had been
there two days, and when the tune came to depart, lo, Maurice had
a dozen or two pictures in his possession to show "Old Ambrose,"
as the planter said.

Indeed, it took Maurice just two days to straighten the books out,
and then Mr. Buckley kept him busy with that camera; for he had
had miserable success himself in handling it, and was just hoping
some one would come along with a better knowledge of such things
than himself.





CHAPTER XXI.

A NIGHT HUNT FOR COONS.


"What do you think," said Thad, one afternoon, after they had been
nearly a week at the plantation, "tonight the major's going to
take us out on a regular old 'coon hunt. I've tried to get 'coons
that way lots of times up home, but never had the right kind of
dog. But that yellow Spider of his is the best in the county, he
says, while Crusoe is a good second."

"That sounds fine, and I sure will be glad to go along. But is it
Robinson Crusoe he means when he calls that poor white dub?" asked
Maurice, looking up from the book he was reading after work hours.

"Yes; you see he found the poor chap with a broken leg on an
island in the swamp. He would have starved to death only Mr.
Buckley happened along in a canoe. And so he named him Crusoe.
They make a splendid pair for the business, he says," went on the
excited Thad.

"Who says--Crusoe?" asked the other. "Oh, shucks! You know I mean
the major. Now, there's his bear dogs, they're a different
proposition, eh; all of 'em big and fierce, just like you'd expect
to find when it comes to stopping a black bear in the canebrake.
And he says we might try a chance with him tomorrow after Bruin.
He's got a rifle to loan us apiece!"

"I suppose you mean the major has, and not the bear. All right,
I'm in anything like that. Never saw a wild bear in my life, and
perhaps I'll be so scared that I won't know which end of the gun
to aim at him; but I'm game to try, Thad; just let him give me a
chance."

"Here he comes now," declared Thad.

"Good gracious! the bear?" cried his chum, in pretended alarm.

"Rats! Major Buckley, of course."

The planter was never tired of the company of the two boys. He had
no children of his own and enjoyed the coming of these two bright
lads so much that he declared it was quite a revelation to him.

"I don't see how I'm going to stand it after you leave here, boys,
he said, as he came up; "I never before realized what it meant to
have young blood around. Tell you what I proposed to the missus
last night after you went to bed. I've got some nephews and nieces
down in Natchez, children of my younger brother, Larry. Don't
believe they're getting along as well as they might since poor
Larry lost his life while out duck hunting in a bayou four years
back. I'm thinking seriously of running down to see my kith and
kin, and, if I fancy 'em as much as I think I will from the
pictures they sent me awhile back, I'm going to bring 'em here,
bag and baggage, to make their home with us. And that's what comes
of knowing you two lads. They'll have to thank you for their good
fortune."

"But we never even heard of them, major," protested Maurice.

"That's so, my lad, but you've made such an impression on my old
heart that my eyes are opened, and I see it isn't right for us to
live on in this fine place while poor old Larry's children and
widow are possibly in want. My mind is quite made up on that
score, and if they don't come it won't be my fault," the planter
went on.

"Then I'm glad for one that we visited your plantation," asserted
Maurice.

"Here, too," echoed his chum, immediately.

Then they fell to talking of the anticipated night's sport with
the 'coon pack in the woods.

"It's late for the best hunting in that line," remarked the owner
of Crusoe and Spider; "you see the 'coons are fattest along about
the ripe corn full moon, and that's when we go after 'em most.
Still, I reckon we can scare up a few, though our way of finding
'em may be off color a bit. But I thought you wouldn't mind that,
so long as you saw how it was done."

Both boys immediately declared that they were indebted to him for
thinking so much about their pleasure.

"Humbug!" said the gentleman, vigorously; "why, your coming has
given me more pleasure than I could ever return. It's wakened me
up, my wife says, and given me a new lease of life. Why, just to
meet one of old Ambrose's nephews has been a tonic for me. Haven't
I spent nearly every evening in retailing old stories of our
doings over on that blessed island of Cuba, when we were with the
insurrectos and fighting against the power of Spain? No, I just
couldn't do too much for such fine lads as you are."

Such talk was enough to make both boys blush. But they were
growing to like Major Buckley more and more with each passing day,
and the recollection of their delightful experiences while his
guests would always remain as a happy era in their southward
voyage.

"No use going out right after supper, boys. Better wait a little.
It's true that the half moon will have about set by then, but we
can use torches just as well. Besides, I always think they add to
the picturesque character of the hunt. I've had them all prepared
of pitch pine, full of resin, and able to give us all the light we
want."

Of course, both boys knew considerable about 'coon hunting at
night--they would not have been true sons of old Kentucky
otherwise. But it happened that neither had ever been fortunate
enough to participate in a genuine chase, and the chance appealed
to them vigorously.

About nine o'clock the major announced that it was time to make a
start.

The barking of the eager dogs that scented the coming fun told
that time was passing slowly for them as well. Soon the little
party had assembled and started for the edge of the big cornfield.
Here several shocks of the white corn had been left as a tempting
bait for a late hunt, and it was at such a point they anticipated
having the dogs pick up the scent.

Besides the major and the boys there were three colored brothers.
One of these was named Black Joe, and he was a faithful old white-
headed negro, who had served the major's father through the civil
war. When Buckley married and settled down, Ms first act had been
to hunt up old Joe and bring him to his plantation as a sort of
major-domo or general overseer, and Joe made good every time.

He was a quaint darky, with a fund of original observations that
sometimes made it hard for the boys to keep straight faces.
Besides, this Black Joe could quote Scripture by the yard, and
nothing ever happened but what he had a verse ready. Why, one day
when Thad was walking with him over some newly cleared ground, old
Joe suddenly clutched his arm, drawing him back and pointing to a
little but ugly ground adder that lay in the path, instantly said:

"Man mus' watch as well as pray!"

And no one could manage the 'coon pack as well as Black Joe. When
the excitement raged, and the best trained dogs were frantic, the
master might command without obtaining obedience; but let old Joe
tell a dog to stop barking, or to get out of sight, and it was
simply wonderful how his words bore fruit.

A trail was immediately struck by the first shock of corn--this was
the flint variety, and as such generally used for hominy
throughout the entire south.

Away went the pack with a chorus of eager yelps, while the hunters
trailed after them.

"No hurry, boys," said the major, leisurely; "when they get him
treed they'll let us know. Then's the time for us to get near and
decide whether the tree shall be chopped or a nigger climb up to
knock the critter down to the dogs. We never shoot a 'coon 'less
the dogs prove unable to master him."

"Then that does sometimes happen, sir?" questioned Thad.

"Occasionally, but not often. A big 'coon may have unusually sharp
claws and tear the dogs bad. Then he jumps another tree before
they can stop him. After that we think it best to knock him down,
rather than risk the lives of the dogs. They's plenty of 'coons,
you see, but mighty few good dogs,"

Maurice smiled at the sentiment expressed, and yet it covered the
ground from the standpoint of the man. The 'coon's opinion was not
worth asking, it seemed.

Suddenly the yelping changed its tenor.

"Does that mean that the 'coon has got away?" asked Maurice.

"Not by a jug full. He's taken to a tree. I reckon they hit it up
so fast after him he couldn't reach his own tree, so he bounced up
the nearest one. We'll soon see," said the major, as they moved in
the direction of the clamor.

"What if he gets to his home tree?" continued Thad, who wanted to
know it all, even though not from Missouri.

"That we call good luck, because, you see, boys, sometimes we get
three or four varmints out of the one stand. Why, I remember once
we kept smoking 'em out till nine had been shook by the dogs. It
was what I called the colony tree," laughed the planter.

Presently they drew close to the spot where the racket was being
maintained by the dogs. The 'coon was silent, but doubtless his
eyes glowed maliciously as he squatted on a limb or in'a fork and
surveyed the yelping crew below.

"I sees 'im!" exclaimed one of the negroes, pointing upward,
'right on dat 'ere limb nigh whar it fo'ks, sah. Dat Mistah Coon,
foh suah, 'deed it am!" exclaimed the discoverer.

"You're right, Klem," said the major, upon looking closely; "see,
boys, you can detect the yellow gleam of his eyes as he watches
us; but not a blessed movement does he make. Hey, Klem, you saw
him first, and it's your chance to climb up and knock him out."

The negro hardly waited for permission, knowing the rules under
which his master usually hunted at night. He had a club in his
hand, which he transferred to his teeth as he started to climb.

The tree was rather large and would have taken too much time to
fell for one coon; so another method was resorted to in order to
get the animal down to where the eager dogs could pounce upon him.

"Look at the dogs!" said Maurice to his chum, while the climber
was cautiously approaching the animal on the limb, so as to
prevent it from ascending higher into the tree.

They were almost frantic, licking their chops, whining and
actually shivering with eagerness. Well did they know that
presently there would come to the ground a furry mass with sharp
claws and teeth, on which they were expected to leap and finish
with a few bites directed either at the throat or the backbone.

"Watch out dar!" came in a thrilling tone from above.

Klem was now close upon the coon, which had retreated further out
on the limb. When the negro climber had gone as far as he dared he
suddenly gave a shake that sent the wretched animal in a
struggling heap down through space.

The dogs were waiting. They saw the coon coming and were on the
spot ere he landed, so that almost before he could attempt any
resistance both Crusoe and Spider were at his throat.

There was a short, if furious, tussle, for a coon is gifted with
considerable strength and agility, though seldom a match for the
right, kind of a dog.

Then it was all over.

The major lifted the still quivering animal.

"Pretty fat critter. A few more like him will pay us for coming
out, boys," he declared.

Then they once more returned to the cornfield, where the keen
nosed dogs speedily caught up another scent.

Again the party followed leisurely until the signal came that the
quarry had been safely treed. This time they found that it was
only a small tree, so it was cut down.

"I want you to see all the phases of coon hunting, boys,"
explained the planter, while the chips were flying under the axes
of Klein and Cudjo.

Of course, the instant the swaying tree commenced to topple the
animal made a frantic leap; but those sharp eyes of the dogs had
never once lost track of the quarry, and they were quickly after
the coon, which, unable to scurry up another tree, had to turn at
bay.

It was soon over, and a second victim had been added to the score,
much to the delight of the blacks, who knew they would surely have
their share of the spoils of the night hunt.

The next coon turned out to be a fat 'possum, and loud were the
exclamations of joy on the part of Klem and his comrades when this
fact was made plain. Indeed, Maurice believed he would not have
taken any great stock in this method of hunting, which seemed so
unfair to the game, only on account of the chances it gave the
negroes for a square meal in the line of the greatest delicacies
they knew. So the hunt went on for several hours.

When about midnight they concluded to return to the house, seven
coons and two 'possums were loaded upon the shoulders of the three
attendants. And the dogs lagged behind, quite tired out with their
exertions; though ready to prick up their ears at ike slightest
suspicious sound from the gloomy woods around them.

"How did you like it, Maurice," asked Thad later on, as they were
getting ready for bed.

"Oh, it was an interesting experience," returned the other; "but I
don't know that I'd give much to repeat the dose."

And Thad was of the same mind. "But that bear hunt will be
something different, you bet," he observed.

It was.





CHAPTER XXII

SHIPMATES FOR A ROUND THE WORLD CRUISE


Each passing day presented some new and attractive feature along
the banks of the great river; and under other conditions Maurice
would have been delighted to go ashore and witness the operation
of grinding sugarcane, or baling cotton where the cotton gin
worked. But these things would have to keep until another
occasion, for destiny now beckoned to the two lads, and they felt
that their fortunes were wrapped up in this anticipated meeting
with the old sailor.

On the twelfth of February, at two in the afternoon, they arrived
at the upper stretch of the river metropolis, and from that time
on they kept fully on the alert so as to avoid a collision with
some passing boat.

At the same time they were also looking for a certain boatyard, to
which they had been recommended by Mr. Buckley, who knew the
proprietor well, and for whom a letter was reposing in the pocket
of Maurice's coat.

Luckily this boatyard was near the upper part of the city, so that
they did not have to pass along the entire water front, in
constant danger of a spill from the many vessels moving about,
great tows of coal barges such as they had seen on the river many
times, ocean steamers, ferry boats, sailboats and numerous other
river craft propelled by steam, gasoline or sails.

The proprietor of the boatyard looked at them a bit suspiciously
as they drew the ungainly craft that had served them as a home
during the long cruise, into his "pocket;" but upon reading the
letter Maurice presented his face changed in its expression and he
shook hands with both lads heartily.

And thus early in their experience in the world our boys realized
what a splendid thing it is at any and all times to have a friend
at court, ready to speak a good work in one's favor.

They could tie up in the yard, and he would see to keeping the
shanty-boat with some things aboard, to be given to their friend,
Bob Archiable, when he arrived.

And yet Maurice and his friend looked at the Tramp with regret in
their eyes when they were saying good-by to the craft; for they
had enjoyed many good times aboard the faithful little floating
home since leaving the Indiana town, and would have many pleasant
memories in the dim future to look back upon.

Mr. Buckley had insisted upon Maurice taking the little snapshot
camera along with him when he departed, saying that he had ordered
a larger and more expensive one; and that it was worth it to be
shown how to develop and print in the clever manner Maurice had
done.

So, as there was a roll of film in the camera, Maurice had used it
in taking pictures of the boat and Dixie while they were floating
downstream; and if these turned out well they would always have a
reminder of their staunch craft and the little yellow cur that had
helped to brighten the voyage, now given over to the friendly boat
builder, who had conceived a fancy for him.

But that night they spent in their old quarters, getting things in
shape for a move in the morning, when they expected to find some
boarding place where they could put up until the arrival of the
Campertown.

It was one of the worst nights of the trip, for the sounds that
came to them from the city streets were so strange to their ears
that, as Thad declared, they seemed to be near some boiler
factory. Of course this was mostly because they had been off by
themselves for months, and the night meant a time of solemn
silence, save for the murmur of the wind through the trees, or the
splash of the waves upon the shore, or against the side of the
boat.

When day came both boys felt a bit rocky, having rested
wretchedly; but after fixing up and sallying forth they found a
restaurant where the demands of the inner man could be satisfied,
and then things began to assume a brighter aspect in their eyes.

Maurice purchased a paper and looked up the nautical news to see
whether the steamer of his uncle had arrived, or was spoken
outside the mouth of the river.

To his delight he discovered that she was expected on the
following morning, and during the day he and Thad found their way
to the identical spot where the Campertown would be apt to lay up
when releasing her cargo and taking on another.

They spent the better part of the day in seeing the city, now in
holiday attire, for it was the last of the Mardi Gras festivities,
as Lent was close at hand.

That night was a banner one to the two lads, who had never been in
a great city before, and especially at a time when the whole
population seemed to have given itself up to gaiety.

They spent the time upon the streets until past midnight, watching
the floats go by in gorgeous procession, and mixing up with the
festive maskers bent upon having all the fun possible, since
tomorrow they must begin to mourn.

Thoroughly tired out, our boys finally said good-by to these
riotous sounds and hied away to the quiet house where they had a
room. Once abed there was no need on this night to toss and turn,
for they hardly hit the pillow before they lost all track of time
and were sound asleep.

Another dawn found them up and eager to get down to the river.

They could hardly wait to get their breakfast before putting out
at full speed.

The steamer had come in during the night, and with emotions that
would be indeed difficult to define they read the word Campertown.

How big she looked to them--for they had never seen anything larger
than a river steamboat until the preceding day; and to think that
this palatial vessel (for such the tramp appeared in their eyes)
might be their home for months, yes, years to come.

Maurice boldly asked for the captain, and was told that he was
asleep, and on no condition could he be seen until ten; so they
had to content themselves with wandering around and talking about
what the chances were for success.

Thad was very nervous, for it must be understood that as yet good
Uncle Ambrose did not even know that such a fellow existed on
earth, and his future was, to say the least, uncertain.

The possibility of being separated by a cruel fate from this chum
whom he loved so well was beginning to give Thad a heartache; and
his hands trembled in spite of his smiling face, every time he
looked at Maurice.

The time that elapsed until the hour of ten arrived was about as
weary a stretch as either of our lads ever knew; indeed, Thad
afterward declared that it was worse than on the occasion when
they had to put in an hour of dreadful suspense in the cabin of
the shanty-boat while the storm raged on the river, and it was
doubtful whether they would ever see daylight again.

But finally the time came for them to go aboard; and mustering
their courage to the fore they went up the gang plank.

A sailor directed them to the captain's room and here Maurice
discovered a big man in a uniform, whose bearded face had a kindly
look, and who at his entrance jumped up, stared at him a couple of
seconds and then pounced upon him like a great grizzly bear,
grasping both his hands and roaring:

"Jim's boy for all the world--he very image of his dad as I
remember him, I'm mighty glad to see you, Maurice, and at first
sight I know we're going to get on fine together. And you're come
down to go with old Uncle Ambrose to foreign ports, eh? That's
great. I tell you this does me good, just to see you, lad. I've
been getting kind of homesick lately--ought to have been ashamed
of myself for not looking you up sooner; but a fellow who's in all
parts of the world loses his grip on things sometimes; but never
mind, I'm going to make it up to you from now on. But who's this
with you, son?"

That made the desired opening; so Thad was introduced as the
finest fellow in all the world, and before Maurice knew it he had
launched out on a narrative of their long cruise down the great
river, in which Thad had borne himself as a true American boy
should, always ready to take his turn at duty, never shirking
peril or stress, and cooking the most delightful meals that
anybody ever ate.

Captain Haddon's eyes gleamed with humor as he heard the virtues
of the modest Thad thus extolled to the skies; he knew what was
coming, but it pleased him to keep the boys on the anxious seat a
while, for this was a every amusing happening to the old salt.

And then, when they told how they had spent a week and more with
his old "bunky" Simon Buckley, he was intensely interested;
whereupon Maurice saw fit to bring out the letter of
recommendation wherein the said Simon declared that Thad was
certainly a good, conscientious carpenter, and he could wager his
old friend would never regret it if he saw fit to give the lad a
chance on board his vessel.

Then the captain looked at Thad, sizing him up from the crown of
his head to his toes, after which he thrust out his hand and said
heartily:

"Tip us your fin, Thad, my lad. It would be cruelty to separate
two such good shanty-boat mates as you. I'll find something for
you to do aboard, and by thunder you'll see the world together.
That cruise was immense, and I'd have enjoyed nothing better
myself than to have been along with you. I expect to hear many a
yarn concerning those happenings as we sail across the big pond;
for our next port call is going to be Liverpool, where we take on
a cargo for Australia, and then to Japan, so you see before you're
a year older both of you may have gone almost around the world;
for we're likely to bring up at 'Frisco. Thad, consider that
you're as good as booked for the trip. And now go about your
business for a time. Here, Maurice, take this little amount for
expenses, and be back on board by evening. Tomorrow I'll start you
in at your work under my present man, who is quitting us by the
time we leave Orleans."

Maurice could hardly find words to thank him, and Thad was in the
same boat; but then the old sea-dog understood boys, and he knew
just how they felt, so that as each of them shook hands with him
and looked mutely in his face he only grinned and nodded and said:

"I know all about it, lads, how you feel. But you've made me
happier than you are yourselves. I was beginning to get into a
rut, and seemed to have nothing to live for. The sight of you, my
boy, has made me ten years younger. Bun along now, and don't get
into any mischief; but I can see with one eye that neither of you
have any use for grog, and there's little chance for trouble when
that is avoided."

They went ashore with light hearts; indeed, it seemed as though
they must be treading on air, and they could hardly refrain from
hugging each other, the world looked so bright in their eyes.

It was a ten dollar bill the rugged old captain had thrust into
the hand of Maurice; and one of the first things he did was to go
to a photographer and have some prints made of the films exposed
during the latter part of the voyage; for already he was feeling
some signs of homesickness in connection with the poor old Tramp,
and desirous of showing his uncle what a "bully old floater" she
was, as Thad said.

What they did not do the balance of the day would be easier to
tell than any attempt to describe the many things they saw and
experienced; but taken in all it was a red letter time, never to
be forgotten.

The future beckoned with enticing fingers, and the horizon looked
red with the glowing promise of hope; but at the same time as they
glanced backward they would always have tender feelings for every
memory connected with that river trip, and the shanty-boat on which
the voyage had been made.

THE END.





End of Project Gutenberg's The House Boat Boys, by St. George Rathborne