HOUSEBOAT ***




Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net.


                    THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT

                                   OR

                     The Rivals of the Mississippi

                                   BY

                          CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

        AUTHOR OF “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE
             LAKE,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST,” ETC.

                      The GOLDSMITH Publishing Co.
                             NEW YORK N.Y.

                              MADE IN USA




                          COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY
                            GROSSET & DUNLAP






CONTENTS


  · CHAPTER I—GLORIOUS TIMES AHEAD

  · CHAPTER II—LAYING PLANS

  · CHAPTER III—BLUFF NAMES THE BOAT

  · CHAPTER IV—THE PERIL ON THE RIVER

  · CHAPTER V—THE FIRST NIGHT AFLOAT

  · CHAPTER VI—WHAT FRANK FOUND ON DECK

  · CHAPTER VII—ANOTHER CARELESS PILOT

  · CHAPTER VIII—FACE TO FACE AT LAST

  · CHAPTER IX—THE GAME OF BLUFF

  · CHAPTER X—A CALL FOR HELP

  · CHAPTER XI—A THREATENED COLLISION

  · CHAPTER XII—A RED GLOW IN THE SKY

  · CHAPTER XIII—AFTER THE STORM

  · CHAPTER XIV—THE RUNAWAY HOUSEBOAT

  · CHAPTER XV—ON BOARD THE POT LUCK AGAIN

  · CHAPTER XVI—THE UNWELCOME PASSENGER

  · CHAPTER XVII—THE FUGITIVES OF THE LEVEE

  · CHAPTER XVIII—WHAT JERRY’S STICK BROUGHT DOWN

  · CHAPTER XIX—A BOBCAT ON BOARD

  · CHAPTER XX—THE FLOATING TREE

  · CHAPTER XXI—THE NEW OWNER OF THE HOUSEBOAT

  · CHAPTER XXII—WHO WAS BOSS

  · CHAPTER XXIII—LEFT IN THE LURCH

  · CHAPTER XXIV—RIVALS NO LONGER.

  · CHAPTER XXV—THE FINISH OF THE VOYAGE





CHAPTER I—GLORIOUS TIMES AHEAD


“Own up, Will, you’ve got hold of some great news, and you’re just
keeping it back to tease us! How about that, Bluff?”

“You’re right, Frank, for I can see it in his face. His eyes are just
dancing with a big secret. But wait up; here comes Jerry across the
campus. Now he’ll just have to open the box, and show us.”

The college boy, called Will by his comrades, and whose last name was
Milton, laughed good-naturedly, and then nodded his head.

“Why, fellows,” he said, “I saw Jerry coming, and meant to wait for him.
When all four members of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, who call
themselves the Outdoor Chums, are present, I’ve got something to say
that is going to set you all just wild.”

At that the young chap who went by the name of Bluff made frantic
gestures for a fourth lad, just then heading in their direction, to
hurry along.

Evidently this freshman must have suspected that something unusual was
brewing, for he started on a run, and came up almost panting for breath.

“What’s in the wind, fellows?” he demanded, glancing from one eager face
to the others. “Don’t tell me you’ve made up your minds where the club
is going to put in the vacation just ahead of us, because that would be
too good news. Who’s going to take pity on me, and relieve my suspense?”

“Why, Will here has got something to tell us, and wanted to wait till
you joined the crowd,” said Frank Langdon, who was just a little taller,
and more manly-looking than any other in the group; though they were all
bright, able lads, who had seen considerable of life.

“Listen, boys,” said Will, who was inclined to be less given to healthy
color than the rest, and who seemed to be not quite so sturdy in build;
“I’ve had a letter from my Uncle Felix, down in New Orleans; and he made
the queerest offer you ever heard about. You see, through my mother he
must have learned about some of the adventures that came our way the
last two years; and, what do you think? he wants the Outdoor Chums to
take a voyage all the way down the Mississippi, just as soon as school
closes.”

“What!” ejaculated Jerry Wallington, as though rather staggered by the
sudden outlook; “a voyage down the Mississippi? What on; a floating
log?—because we don’t happen to own any kind of a boat just now.”

“Well, Uncle Felix does, you see,” Will went on, coolly. “It’s some sort
of a houseboat, that he used to live aboard for several years. For some
reason, that he doesn’t take the trouble to explain, he wants it brought
down to New Orleans, where he’s recovering from a bad accident, so that
he just can’t come up himself. And, boys, he enclosed a check for a
hundred dollars in the letter.”

“Wow! what was that for?” demanded Bluff Masters, who had a little habit
of being impetuous, though at heart he was as true as steel to his
chums, and always fair toward even his bitterest enemy.

“Why, to buy eats, of course!” declared Will. “You see, a houseboat
doesn’t often have any way of moving along, only with the current, at
least this one doesn’t, I know; and so it just has to wander down the
river. That takes a heap of time; and four healthy boys have to eat
sometimes five times a day to keep from starving to death; anyhow, Bluff
here does, I happen to know.”

“Well, a hundred dollars ought to buy a heap of grub,” remarked Jerry,
with a wide grin on his good-natured face. “But after we get there, how
do you suppose we’re ever to get back home again, unless we draw some of
our little nest-egg out of bank, and foot the railroad bill?”

“Trust Uncle Felix for that,” Will remarked. “He says he’ll see that we
all get back home safe in good time. And, as he’s got bushels of money,
and is a bachelor in the bargain, that part of the job needn’t worry
us.”

“Where’s the houseboat now?” asked Frank,

“Tied up in the boatyard of a man named James Whittaker in St. Paul.
There was an order on him to deliver the boat to us with all the
fixtures, whatever that may mean,” Will continued.

“Oh! say, did you ever hear of such luck?” cried Bluff, throwing his cap
up in the air and catching it deftly again as it fell.

“Perhaps it’s just like a palace, if a rich old bachelor has been
knocking around in it for some years,” suggested Jerry.

Frank noticed that Will did not think to offer any information on this
score, if he happened to possess the knowledge. Perhaps he was willing
that his three chums should live in expectation, and be surprised by the
wonders of the houseboat upon which Uncle Felix seemed to set such
store.

“By the way,” continued Will, “there was one funny part to Uncle’s
letter.”

“Tell us about it. If we’re going to make a cruise in the houseboat of a
millionaire, we ought to know,” remarked Bluff.

“He says,” Will went on, “he’s mighty particular about whom he allows
aboard his boat, and wants to impress upon us all that during the cruise
we must keep off all undesirable characters.”

“Sure thing,” remarked Bluff, with a wise nod. “I’ve always heard that
the Mississippi is a tramp’s paradise, and that they just swarm down
there. It’s only right that a rich man would want us to keep such
characters off his fine houseboat.”

“Hold on there,” broke in Will, “I haven’t said it was such a palace,
have I, Frank? Here Bluff keeps on getting more and more extravagant
with his adjectives every time he mentions the boat.”

“Oh! well,” the other ventured, “it stands to reason that a rich old
chap who spends lots of his time on board a pet boat would have things
just scrumptious. Me for the first choice of bunks aboard! Wonder if he
has silk eiderdown quilts for covers. Yum! yum! we’re just the luckiest
lot of freshmen that ever squeezed through their first year at college;
and, Will, I feel like giving you a bear’s hug for bringing us this
great news.”

“Please don’t!” cried Will, half alarmed, for Bluff was a bit rough in
his way; “because I’m carrying a bunch of lantern slides in my pocket;
and I’d hate to have them broken;” but the observing Frank detected what
seemed to be a gleam of suppressed amusement on Will’s face, that gave
him an inkling as to the true state of affairs.

Will had always been the official photographer of the Rod, Gun and
Camera Club, and was something of an expert at snapping pictures to
commemorate stirring and unusual events in the outdoor experiences of
the chums.

“Was that all he said about not letting strangers aboard unless they
brought letters of introduction?” asked Jerry.

“He warned us to be particularly careful not to harbor a certain party
named Marcus Stackpole, who seems to be some sort of particular enemy of
my uncle, though just why he would want to get aboard the houseboat I
can’t imagine.”

“Say, that’s queer, now,” remarked Bluff.

“Guess he’s had some reason for believing this Stackpole to be a thief,
and he thinks he’s run away with some of the things your uncle carries
aboard,” Jerry suggested.

Will simply elevated his eyebrows as he replied, evasively:

“I don’t know, and that’s all I can say, fellows; but suppose we go over
to my rooms, where we can read the letter again, and take a look at the
course of the Mississippi River from St. Paul to New Orleans.”

It happened that Will and Frank had rooms at some little distance from
the college buildings, making quite a walk along the road that ran
beside the little river. And as they are trudging along, indulging in
considerable excited talk, we can devote a few paragraphs to some of the
pleasant things that in times past were experienced by these four
comrades.

The organization of the club, and what happened to the boys shortly
afterward, has been detailed, at length, in the first book of this
series, called: “The Outdoor Chums; Or, The First Tour of the Rod, Gun
and Camera Club.” In the second story are given some of the wonderful
happenings that befell them while camping on an island in Camelot Lake,
which had, up to that time, been shunned by most people, because of the
fierce bobcats that were said to hold possession there. These exciting
events you will find narrated in “The Outdoor Chums on the Lake; Or,
Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island.”

During the Easter holidays another campaign was undertaken in search of
excitement and pictures, as well as camping experiences. It had been
reported that a ghost roamed over a certain section of the country some
miles away from the town of Centerville; and the four boys determined to
find out the truth of this rumor. As to what befell them, the reader
will find the full details in the third volume, called “The Outdoor
Chums in the Forest; Or, Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge.”

When Christmas came, the chums received permission to pay a visit to the
Sunny South. And what strange things happened to them on a Florida
river, as well as upon the great Mexican gulf, have been told in the
fourth book, under the title of “The Outdoor Chums on the Gulf; Or,
Rescuing the Lost Balloonists.”

Then came a delightful visit to the Far West, where they saw what life
on a cattle ranch was like, and had some thrilling times among the wild
animals that Will was always anxious to take pictures of, at no matter
what risk to himself. You can find all these narrated at length in the
fifth book, just preceding this, and bearing the title of “The Outdoor
Chums After Big Game; Or, Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness.”

“There’s that fancy dresser, Oswald Fredericks, and some of his chums,
coming this way, Frank!” remarked Bluff, as the four boys were walking
along the road.

Frank frowned. If there was one fellow in all the hundreds attending
college with whom he had never been able to get on, it had been the rich
man’s son, Oswald Fredericks. They had never actually come to blows, but
for some reason the other had shown jealousy toward Frank, and seldom
let an opportunity pass for sneering at him, or doing some small thing
to indicate what his feelings toward Frank were.

“And we’re bound to meet the bunch just in that narrow part of the road,
too, where the river runs close beside it,” remarked Will, in disgust.

“Well,” spoke up fiery Bluff, “you don’t expect that we’re going to
stand here, and wait for the procession to pass by; do you? I guess four
of us ought to be a match for as many of the Fredericks crowd, if they
try to muss us up.”

“Oh! I don’t think Fredericks would try anything like that,” Frank
remarked.

“You never know what such a fellow might do,” declared Jerry. “Once I
used to like him; but he got going with a fast set, and I had to cut him
dead. He isn’t altogether bad, but apt to feel himself superior because
his dad’s a millionaire.”

“And the queer thing about it,” broke in Will just then, “is that he
lives in St. Paul, where we have to go after our houseboat, and I’ve
often heard him tell about the dandy craft his father owns, used for
making cruises down the river. It’s got an engine aboard, too, and can
run like a steamboat.”

“Oh! shucks! I just wish he’d take a notion to make a cruise about the
same time as we did,” said Bluff in a low voice, for the other party was
now quite close by. “Say, wouldn’t we have some bully times, though,
running races with his old tub?”

Frank somehow felt that the other students were up to mischief. He had
noticed that they kept their heads together, and seemed to be whispering
suspiciously.

On that account he was on the lookout for trouble. Consequently, when,
just as the two parties were passing, some of the others gave Oswald a
sudden shove, as doubtless arranged beforehand, and he was thrown toward
Frank, the latter deftly jumped aside.

The consequence was that the well-dressed Oswald, not running up against
the object he had anticipated shoving over the edge of the bank into the
river, made a few wild movements of his arms, as though seeking
something to stay his own progress; and then quickly vanished from view
over the edge, to the dismay of his companions, and the delight of Bluff
and Jerry.

They heard him give a sharp yelp; and then a splash announced that he
had plunged into the swiftly-running stream.




CHAPTER II—LAYING PLANS


“Listen to that, will you?” cried Bluff Masters. “He’s in, all right!”

The boys hastened to the edge of the bank. The river ran about six feet
below, and as there was a fair stage of water at this time of year,
Oswald had ducked completely under when he fell in.

He was making frantic efforts to drag himself out, and was spouting
water like a geyser. One of his comrades immediately hastened to lower
himself by means of some friendly rocks, so as to give the unfortunate
Oswald a helping hand.

Dripping from head to foot, and looking like a half-drowned rat, the son
of the St. Paul millionaire finally managed to regain the road. He was
certainly a forlorn-looking figure. Even a couple of his friends grinned
a little behind his back; while Bluff and Jerry made no pretense of
hiding their delight. Frank half expected that the other would attack
him, though there was not the slightest reason for it, since he had not
even touched young Fredericks when so deftly stepping aside.

“What did you do that for, Langdon?” spluttered the other, shivering,
either with the cold, or the excitement following his unexpected dip in
the water.

“I don’t know that I did anything, except to get out of your way,”
returned Frank, quietly. “You seemed to want the whole road, and I was
for giving it to you. What do you find about that to complain of,
Fredericks?”

“Oh! go on,” sneered the other. “You knew mighty well that if you jumped
out of the way I’d go into the river.”

“Well,” remarked Frank, steadily, keeping his eyes on Oswald, “it was
either you or me; and I wasn’t at all anxious to get wet; so since you
would have it, I let you have first choice. If you’d kept to your side
of the road nothing would have happened. You’ve only yourself to blame.
You tried to put up a little game on me, and the biter got bitten
himself; that’s all there is to it.”

“Think you’re pretty smart; don’t you, Langdon?” snarled the other, who
in his anger quite forgot his elegant ways, and seemed ready to descend
to the manner of a common bully. “You set up that game on me, and you
know it. Didn’t I see you telling Bluff Masters what you would do if I
happened to brush up against you? I’ve a good notion to give you what
you ought to have had long ago.”

“You don’t say?” remarked Frank, pleasantly; “and suppose you tell me
what that might be, Fredericks.”

“A sound drubbing; and I can do it, too, I want you to know!” snarled
the other, making a forward movement, though two of his boon companions
managed to get a grip on his shoulders and hold him back.

Frank deliberately took off his coat, and handed it to Will Milton.

“That’s a new coat,” he said, calmly, “and I wouldn’t want to get it
soiled by rubbing up against your dirty and wet clothes. Now, suppose
you start in, and give me what you say I need; because to-morrow may be
too late, as we start for home in the morning. This is a nice, quiet
spot, and we stand little chance of being bothered by any outsiders.”

“Let me go; can’t you, fellows?” cried Oswald, making a great show of
trying to break away from the detaining hands of his chums; though Bluff
noticed that it was something of a pretense after all.

“Don’t be a fool, Ossie,” said Raymond Ellis, in a low voice; “you know
that Langdon’s said to be as strong as an ox. He made the baseball team,
and will be in the football squad next fall. Let it drop; can’t you? It
was a bad job all around, and you got caught in your own trap.”

“But I tell you I can do him up right now, if you only let me loose!”
declared Fredericks, with another vain effort to break away, making his
friends only seek the harder to keep him back, the third one now lending
a hand, and trying to soothe him with soft words. “What have I been
taking boxing and wrestling lessons all winter for, if not just this
opening? I knew some day we’d have it out; and why not now? Let loose,
Duke Fletcher; I want to show him!”

“Well, you just can’t right now, and that’s all there is about it,”
declared the lad last named, as he tightened his grip. “You’re soaked to
the skin, and excited in the bargain; while he’s as cool as a cucumber.
Just hold your horses, and maybe some fine day you’ll get your chance on
even terms.”

They started to lead the expostulating Oswald away. Every little while
he would break out into another wild series of exclamations, and
struggle with the chums who kept their detaining hands on him.

Frank quietly recovered his coat and put it on. There was a curl to his
lips as he turned his face toward his chums.

“What do you think of it, boys?” he asked.

“He never wanted to fight, even a little bit!” declared Bluff, scorn in
his tones.

“That’s right,” remarked Jerry. “For all his squirming, he didn’t want
to break away from his friends. Why, he could have done it in the start,
easy enough; but it was all a big bluff. But say, did you ever hear a
splash like that, fellows?”

“It certainly did make a noise,” remarked Frank, laughing.

“Noise!” echoed Bluff, doubling up with laughter; “why, if you didn’t
know what happened, you’d think a house had dropped kerplunk into the
river. Only time I can remember anything like it, was when Jerry here
went overboard once——”

“That’ll do for you, Bluff,” interrupted the one mentioned; “I could
refer to a few of your troubles in the past when it comes to speaking
about splashes. Just drop personal things, and let’s speak about
Fredericks.”

“Oh! if I’d only had my little snapshot camera along,” exclaimed Will,
suddenly remembering what a startling picture he might have taken of
Oswald going over the edge of the bank; to be followed with another
showing him as he climbed, dripping, out of the river.

“Well, that’s nearly always the way,” grunted Bluff. “What wonderful
things we do see when we haven’t got a gun.”

“But he’s going to set that bath down against you, Frank; and some day
try to hand you back something in return,” remarked Jerry.

“How could you be so cruel as to side-step, and let the poor chap go
over into that cold water?” asked Bluff.

They were all in high spirits as they started once more for the room
where Will and Frank boarded. Healthy boys see no shadows ahead when
fortune beckons. And these chums knew of no reason why they should not
look forward with delight to that long trip in a houseboat down the
Father of Waters.

“I’m going to take the pains to tell Duke Fletcher what our plans are
for the summer,” said Jerry, who was by long odds far from being one to
seek trouble; but in this case he seemed to think it might liven things
up if only Oswald and several of his cronies chose to make a similar
cruise, and that fortune threw them together now and then.

Frank rather doubted the wisdom of notifying the others of the intended
voyage; but he neglected to ask Jerry not to mention it, and so the fact
was forgotten until later.

Once they arrived at the room, the letter, with its enclosures, was
produced, and for a full hour the boys studied it.

“I declare I can’t make head or tail of it,” Jerry finally admitted,
with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Me, too!” declared Bluff, ready to confess himself “stumped,” as he
called it. “What do you suppose there is so valuable about this
houseboat that would make anybody like Marcus Stackpole want to get it,
if only he got on board?”

“Say, perhaps Uncle Felix keeps some of his expensive curios aboard, and
this Stackpole knows it, and means to get hold of ’em. I’m going to make
it my job to find out if that’s so, and you fellows needn’t be surprised
to see me poking around in any old dark corner, and tapping the walls of
the cabin to find concealed treasures.”

“That sounds just like you, Jerry; always thinking you’re going to
strike it rich,” jeered Bluff. “Now, I’ve got a notion it’s the craft
itself that’s so expensively built, and Stackpole, who must have wanted
to buy it from Uncle Felix, and has been refused, is just bound to get
hold of it.”

Frank laughed at all these wild theories. He did not know himself what
the solution of the mystery could be, but felt positive that it was
along different lines from anything as yet suggested in the fertile
brains of his companions. Besides, he wondered what that occasional
smile he saw upon the face of Will meant. Evidently the other was
keeping back something from his chums; and it must have a connection
with the houseboat.

As they expected to start home on the following day, it would not be
long before they would arrive in St. Paul, ready to purchase their
provisions for the beginning of the river trip, and start down stream.

It was the last night at college for that term and all sorts of affairs
were going on among the students, who would separate for two months and
more on the morrow. When morning came there was a grand exodus, and the
station of the college town presented a gay appearance, as scores of
young fellows, with suitcases in their hands, boarded the train that
pulled out.

Those who were going later gave the college yell when the whistle of the
engine announced that the parting minute had arrived. And amid a
shrieking of hundreds of voices the train started that was to bear the
four chums to their homes in Centerville.

“There’s your dear friend, Oswald Fredericks, Frank!” said Will, as the
party hung partly out of a couple of windows in the car they occupied.

“And he’s got his eye glued on you, too; don’t forget,” remarked Jerry.

“Oh! he’s a good hater, all right,” said Bluff. “If he didn’t have any
reason to wish you all sorts of bad luck before, that souse in the river
settled it. From now on he’ll never hear the name of Frank Langdon
without getting mad, you mark me. And some day, sooner or later, he
hopes to have a chance to even up the score.”

“Huh! it may come sooner, then,” remarked Jerry, significantly.

“See here,” remarked Frank, turning to look at the last speaker, “did
you keep your word, and tell Duke Fletcher about our plans this summer?”

Jerry nodded his head coolly.

“Course I did,” he admitted. “You heard me tell I was going to do it,
and nobody said a word. I like to have things going on all the time!
What’s the use of living, if you can’t have some excitement once in a
while? Besides, I’m hoping Oswald will find a chance to ‘hop’ Frank
here. You see, I know what will follow; and he needs a lesson, that
upstart does, to take the conceit out of him.”

“Oh! well,” remarked Frank, with a whimsical smile, “I believe the old
Mississippi is something of a river; and even if they do start down in
another houseboat, the chances of running across us wouldn’t amount to
much, anyhow. So what’s the use of worrying? We’ve got all we want to do
to keep watch for this tricky Marcus Stackpole, the man Uncle Felix
seems to think will try to either rob the boat, or steal the entire
outfit.”

“Somebody pinch me,” said Bluff, as they sat down facing each other in
the double seat; “because I just can’t believe it’s so, all these fine
times ahead of us, with a houseboat all our own for weeks, and we living
on the fat of the land as we go, taking toll of game and fish by the
way.”

“Huh!” grunted Jerry, “much game you’ll get, with the law on nearly
everything that flies; and Frank here a regular stickler for obeying
what the law says. But say, we take our guns along, I certainly hope,
boys?”

“That’s a settled thing,” Frank replied. “We might need them in lots of
ways; and while Uncle Felix may have a stock of firearms aboard his
boat, we would be foolish to take any chances.”

“Hear! hear! that makes me happy!” Bluff exclaimed.

“Now he’s just thinking about that pump-gun he owns, and what havoc he
can make if ever he sees a flock of ducks on a sand bar!” chuckled Will;
for the gun had never been a favorite with either himself or Jerry, who
declared it was unsportsmanlike to be able to send a volley into a bevy
of quail, from a repeating shotgun, though with a rifle the case was
different.

And, throughout all that long journey, from the college to their home
town, the four chums talked of hardly anything else but the pleasure
they anticipated when once they were launched on the mighty Mississippi,
bound for the distant Southern metropolis, known as the Crescent City.




CHAPTER III—BLUFF NAMES THE BOAT


“Well, hold me, somebody, I’m going to faint!”

It was Jerry who made this remark; and he did actually pretend to fall
over against Will, who happened to be standing next to him at the time.

The four chums were in St. Paul, and had just been shown the interior of
the houseboat, on board of which they expected to make the voyage down
the river, over the many hundreds of miles separating them from New
Orleans.

Even Frank was smiling as though surprised; while Bluff stared around in
wonder. Will was chuckling to himself, as though he had known about it
all along, and wished to spring a surprise on his mates by keeping
still. That was what his smiles meant, Frank now knew, at the time the
others were speculating as to what the houseboat of a wealthy old
bachelor might be like.

“Talk to me about a dilapidated old craft, this sure takes the cake!”
ventured the plain-spoken Bluff, presently, when he could catch his
breath. “Why, say, I’ve seen some shantyboats that could give this one a
handicap, and still win out. Do you mean to say, Will Milton, your Uncle
Felix is afraid of somebody running away with this old tub? That must be
his little joke on us.”

“Oh! nobody ever said there was anything palatial about uncle’s
houseboat,” Will hastened to declare; “you fellows made up that fairy
story to please yourselves. If you knew my uncle, you’d never think of
him wasting his money on a floating palace. Fact is, boys, I do know all
about this same craft; and if you sit down I’ll tell you how he came to
get hold of her in the first place.”

“Might as well take a little rest, because I do feel sort of weak after
such a shock,” declared Jerry.

“Well, now,” remarked the man who had accompanied them aboard the boat,
and who had unlocked the door very carefully, as though the cabin
contained some wild animal he was afraid might escape, this being the
boat builder, Mr. Whittaker; “I’d like to hear that myself. You see, all
I know is that Mr. Milton left this boat in my charge, and I was to keep
constant watch over it, for which he agreed to pay in full. I’ve looked
it over from stem to stern, and I declare if I was ever able to make up
my mind what there was about the old thing to cause him to be so
anxious. So tell us about it, my boy, if you please.”

“Why, it’s just this way,” Will went on to say; “Uncle was knocking
around down South some years ago, when he got in a tight scrape, and
might have lost his life only for the fortunate coming of the man who
owned this houseboat. I guess at that time it was called a shantyboat,
Bluff, for a fact. Well, it seems that my uncle, who does lots of queer
things, I’m told, thought so much of the boat that he bought her from
the man, who was a traveling bee-keeper, and who said he had purchased
the craft from a clock peddler, who used to drop down from town to town
finding odd jobs to do. Now you’ve got the history of the gallant
craft.”

“And what did he want her for; just to keep on account of having his
life saved by her coming at the right time?” demanded Jerry.

“Oh!” said Will, readily enough; “he used her several seasons as a
houseboat; and after drifting as far down the river as he cared to go,
he’d have her towed up again. Few shantyboats ever come back again, you
know. Once they get South, they’re sold, and broken up for firewood. But
I rather think Uncle Felix must have had some pleasant days and nights
aboard this same boat, and that’s why he values her, in one way.”

Bluff broke out into laughter, doubling up like a hinge.

“It makes me weep, boys, to think of the adjectives we’ve wasted on the
old tub. I reckon among the lot we’ve called her everything that stood
for a grand outfit. Why, I’ve often shut my eyes, and tried to picture
the finest thing that ever was built. And now to see this old boat gives
me a fit. Where do you suppose the silk-covered eiderdown quilts are
stowed away; eh? And the mahogany trimmings; with the gas range Jerry
was speaking about? Oh! my, here’s a little old wood-burning stove, with
one lid cracked. And well, here’s luck, boys, just four bunks, arranged
on the two sides of the cabin, one for each.”

Frank had not allowed himself to indulge in any of the high-flown
anticipations that had captured his two chums. That queer little smile
on Will’s face had warned him against such a course. And so now he was
in a position to look at things from a sensible point.

“Hold on, fellows,” he remarked, quietly; “if you’ve had to take a
tumble, whose fault is it but your own? Will never gave you to
understand that this was going to be a voyage in a floating palace; you
just chose to picture all that sort of stuff for yourselves. And after
all, when you take an inventory of things here, it isn’t so bad a
handout.”

“Good for you, Frank,” said Will, as if pleased.

“Just forget all that nonsense you imagined about sailing down in a
gilt-edged houseboat, boys, and look the thing squarely in the face. The
boat is still in good condition, and as staunch as anything. There’s
plenty of room for getting around, and for storing our stuff, bedclothes
and eatables. Will you tell me what more the Outdoor Chums need in order
to have a jolly good time?”

Bluff and Jerry looked at each other. The former scratched his head, and
then the disappointed expression vanished from his face.

“I guess you’re about right there, Frank,” he admitted; “we’ve been
through all sorts of times, and we never yet asked for more than just
ordinary comforts. Leave the millionaire boats for the sons of rich men,
who are so soft and pampered that they just can’t rough it any. We’ve
shown we could stand a lot; and anyhow, we can have a heap of fun aboard
this old she-bang, once we cut loose from St. Paul.”

“But what strikes me in the funny bone is this,” declared Jerry. “If it
looked queer to us why a fellow named Marcus Stackpole would want to
sneak aboard a palatial craft to steal something, or get away with the
boat itself, now what under the sun could anybody in their right senses
expect to find on this tub worth taking; tell me that, will you?”

And all of the others only shook their heads in the negative, as though
the conundrum were too much for them.

“Ask me something easy,” remarked Bluff; “like the number of stars in
the Milky Way, and I might give a guess; but I’m stumped when you want
me to say why anybody would spend good hard-earned dollars to have this
old boat guarded for months in Mr. Whittaker’s yard here; and then warn
us to be careful how we let any strangers travel with us.”

“Well,” said Jerry, “you know what I said about his having something
hidden aboard, that this other fellow knew about, and wanted. I still
stick to that, more than ever; and I’m never going to rest till I find
out.”

“Just like you, Jerry,” remarked Frank; “like as not you’ll be wanting
to tear away the whole inside planking piece by piece, in hopes of
making a discovery. There never was such a fellow for investigating
things; and there never will be again.”

“Sure,” replied the other, with a grin. “But when do we get our duffle
aboard, fellows? Can’t start any too soon to please me.”

The disappointment had been keen, for Bluff and Jerry had foolishly
indulged in all manner of extravagant ideas concerning the luxuries they
expected to find on board a houseboat owned by a rich man like Uncle
Felix; but after all they were sensible boys, and could extract a lot of
fun out of very small material.

The main thing was that they had a boat, strong and serviceable, to bear
them on the long voyage; plenty of money with which to purchase
provisions; and the whole summer before them in which to make the trip.

Imagination, such as is always rampant in the mind of a boy, did the
rest. They could anticipate all manner of glorious adventures as taking
place before their distant destination was reached.

Frank was ready to settle that matter without delay.

“I don’t see any reason why we couldn’t move out of here before night
comes,” he remarked. “Bluff could see to getting all our stuff aboard,
while some of the rest accompanied me to buy the provisions. They’ll
deliver the stuff here right away; and then we can cut loose. We’ve got
clothes and ammunition and all such things, including blankets for the
crowd.”

“Hurrah! I’ll get a move on right away, and yank that lot of bags down
here in a jiffy,” declared Bluff, always ready to do things in a hurry.

“Well,” remarked Mr. Whittaker, “I reckon you boys expect to have a
great time of it this summer; and if I was some years younger I’d just
like to be along with you. From the way you talk I rather imagine this
isn’t the first trip you four’ve taken in company.”

At that the boys looked at each other and laughed.

“What the Outdoor Chums have gone through with would fill lots of
books,” Frank took occasion to remark; “and if I had the time I’d like
to tell you a few of the good times we’ve had together. But we’ve got to
get a hustle on if we want to drop down the river this afternoon;
because there’s always lots to do at the last minute. Off you go, Bluff;
and Will, you come with me. I think Jerry had better help Bluff manage
the luggage.”

And so they separated, each couple going about the business in hand with
the energy boys can always display when they expect to have a good time.

“Be mighty careful with my camera case,” called out Will, after the
others. “If anything happened to that tool of mine, you’d never hear the
last of it. And then, however would we get any pictures of the queer
things that happen by the way? I expect to snap off some striking views
of you fellows doing stunts. Remember some of the ones we’ve got in the
album at home?”

“Just forget about them right now,” answered Bluff, who knew that he
himself figured in not a few of them, often in rather undignified
attitudes, for instance where the wide-awake artist had happened to
catch him sitting astride a limb, with an angry bull below.

Within two hours they had come back again to the boatyard; and Bluff,
with the help of Jerry, managed to get aboard all their traps, brought
from home.

“Good, there’s going to be plenty of room,” Bluff declared, as he tugged
several of the last bundles up the gang-plank leading to the deck of the
boat; “because we carry enough duffle to sink a small boat—guns, cooking
utensils, blankets, clothes bags with changes of woolens, photographic
stuff by the bushel. And there come Frank and Will, loaded to the
gunwales with packages, too.”

“Is that all the grub we’re going to stack up with, for a voyage that
may take four or six weeks?” demanded Jerry, in dismay, when the
newcomers put their packages down aboard the houseboat.

“Oh! dear me, no,” said Will; “these are only the little extras we
picked up on the way here; fruit and cakes, and some things we happened
to forget in the grocery. The wagon-load will be along shortly now.”

“That sounds about right,” declared Jerry. “Honest, now, I’m that hungry
a wagon-load of grub has the proper sort of ring, because I think I can
make away with the entire collection at a sitting. Bring on your whole
ham, and a dozen or two fried eggs. Think of the delicious coffee our
friend Bluff here used to make, when he got his hand in. Oh! how can I
wait till we’re afloat, for supper to come along?”

“Well, there’s the wagon right now,” said Frank; “so we needn’t be long
in having Mr. Whittaker set us afloat on the river. After that some of
us will have to man the big sweep here, and guide the boat.”

“And think of us wise ones figuring on having an engine to do all the
work?” exclaimed Jerry, throwing up his hands. “But Bluff here has got a
nice little surprise for you, boys.”

“What is it, Bluff?” asked Will, eagerly.

“It’s about a name for our new craft,” replied the other, with a knowing
look on his face. “You see, we had it all made up to call her the
Paragon or perhaps the Wanderer. But, fellows, after setting my eyes on
the condition of affairs here, it struck me that names like those would
be sort of out of order. And while Jerry was waiting to see the rest of
our things loaded on the wagon, I just stepped into a paint shop, and
had him fix me up something on a neat little board. This goes over the
door here, and can be read half a mile away. Now, hold your breath,
boys!”

With that he began to undo a package he had brought, and which was
carefully tied up in brown paper. Whipping the long narrow board free,
presently Bluff held it up to the very spot where he had declared he
meant to fasten it with nails. And as the others read what he had had
painted on the signboard, they gave a shout of appreciation, for the
name seemed to just hit the right chord.

It was “Pot Luck!”




CHAPTER IV—THE PERIL ON THE RIVER


“What do you think of it, boys?” asked Bluff, as he stood there, still
holding up the board over the cabin door.

“Couldn’t have picked out a better name if you’d looked over the whole
dictionary,” declared Frank. “It strikes right at the heart of things.”

“We’re sure going to take _pot-luck_ while we’re aboard this jolly
rover!” remarked Jerry, with a rollicking laugh, as he swept his hand
around at the bare condition of the cabin’s interior. “Your uncle must
have known what sort of boys we were, and how we’d manage to get along
with a makeshift boat.”

“Well,” said Bluff, “I’m glad you like my choice. Just happened to think
of it, you know; and seemed like it covered our case. And so _Pot Luck_
goes; eh, boys?”

“There’s a hammer, and some nails on a shelf inside here, so you can
hang it up where it belongs in a jiffy,” remarked Will, darting inside
to bring the articles he mentioned to Bluff, who was still standing
there with his arms extended.

And a few lusty blows from the hammer served to fasten the board up
securely.

“Hurrah! three cheers for the good old _Pot Luck!_” cried Jerry; and
they were given with a will, much to the amusement of some ship
carpenters repairing a tugboat near by.

“If we had our flag hoisted now,” observed Bluff, “I’d dip the colors to
the christening of the houseboat. As it is, we take off our hats to
her.”

“Long may she wave; or, rather, ride the waves!” commented Frank.

“And safe may she carry the Outdoor Chums on their voyage to the Sunny
South,” remarked Will. “May no tempest toss her about like a chip; and
may she skip all the sand bars they say are always lying in wait to grip
a floating boat.”

The arrival of the wagon carrying their supplies put an end to further
talk; and for some little time all of them were as busy as bees storing
the things on board.

“Never mind where they go now,” Frank had said, in the beginning. “After
we get fairly afloat we can stow them in a better way. All we want now
is to make sure they don’t get under our feet.”

“Or else drop overboard,” added Jerry, who had made sure to hang a
canvas-covered ham where it would be particularly safe; for fried ham
was one of his favorite dishes; and Jerry had dozens of them in his list
of prize feeds.

Finally the empty wagon told that all had been taken aboard. Frank
checked off the articles, and announced that nothing they had paid for
was forgotten.

“And now to see about getting pushed out in the current, where we’ve got
to work our passage,” he observed; at which the others manifested their
delight.

Will, true to his passion, had seized upon his camera, and seemed ready
to get some sort of snapshot of the “launching,” as he termed it.
Whenever anything out of the usual was about to take place, Will could
be depended on to show up, eager to transfer the scene to a plate or
film, and so insure its being enjoyed for all time to come, affording
much amusement and often laughter.

Jerry was already going around the inside of the cabin, with a
mysterious look on his face, sounding the wooden walls, and evidently
trying to locate some place of concealment where a queer old fellow
would be apt to hide a lot of valuables, and then forget all about them
until stricken down by some accident in far-away New Orleans.

Apparently the others would never hear the end of that idea until the
cruise came to a termination, or the persistent Jerry unearthed a
solution of the mystery.

The boat builder had a way of warping the houseboat out of his
enclosure, and setting it adrift on the bosom of the Mississippi. At
this point the river looked to be quite a good-sized stream to the boys;
but later on they would deem this next door to a creek, after they had
navigated the lower reaches, where it is sometimes twenty miles across
from bank to bank.

The last word was said, and Mr. Whittaker waved his hand to the four
young voyagers, wishing them the best of luck.

“Whoop! we’re off at last!” cried Bluff, as the current took the
floating houseboat in its grip, and began to carry the unwieldy craft
slowly along.

“Take a hand here, and be ready to swing her further out into the
river,” called Frank. “It’s dangerous to keep near the shore, the boat
builder said. All together, now, boys; away she goes!”

When four stout young college boys put their shoulders to the task,
something has just got to be doing. And as they toiled at that big sweep
the clumsy houseboat slowly but steadily lurched away from the shore,
and began to get more of the force of the current, that always runs
stronger toward the middle of the river.

The city lay behind them now, and none of the boys felt the least bit of
regret. They loved the open, and outdoor life was with them a passion.

Looking back, they could admire the picture that was presented to Will
when he snapped his camera upon the last glimpse they would have of St.
Paul, lying on the upper reach of the mighty river.

“Oh! don’t I feel like whooping it up, though!” cried Jerry; “because
we’ve made a start on our long voyage!”

“Makes me think of that other trip we took down in Florida, when we had
that fine little launch to handle, and saw something of life along the
coast after we came out of that river,” Frank was saying, as he kept
pushing with the sweep, so as to clear the shore more than ever.

“Sure it does,” echoed Bluff, enthusiastically. “Fact is, fellows, we’ve
been through so many exciting affairs that nearly everything that
happens is bound to make us remember some other adventure. Hey! me to
sound the well here, and see if she’s taking water fast. Wouldn’t be a
very nice thing to have our boat go down with us, before we’d been
moving an hour.”

“Oh! no danger of that, Bluff,” Frank remarked, reassuringly; “Mr.
Whittaker told me he had himself looked her all over while she was there
in his basin; and he gave me to understand that there wasn’t a piece of
rotten wood in all her timbers. Fact is, he said she was good for many
years yet.”

“That sounds all right, Frank, but the best of boats will take water;
and I can pump it up right now,” Bluff insisted.

“Well, suppose you keep at work,” the other continued, obligingly. “I
like to have everybody satisfied when I’m sailing a boat. Pump away till
you’re tired, if you feel that way. It’s silly to carry a cargo of
water, when we’ve got such a lot of better things aboard.”

So Bluff amused himself with the pump as long as he could get any
considerable stream to respond to his muscular efforts.

The other three hung about the sweep; and when Frank thought they ought
to work out still further from the shore below the city, he found a pair
of eager assistants to help him man that guiding oar.

Frank could see the time coming when he might not have such willing
hands; and when the task of pushing that sweep would bring out many a
grunt and groan from Bluff and Jerry. But everything was new now, and
they actually thought it fun to throw their sturdy young shoulders
against the long handle, and bending to the job, urge the boat sideways
through the swirling water.

“About when do we think of getting supper?” asked Jerry, after a little
time had elapsed, and they could no longer see signs of the city that
was situated on the eastern shore of the river.

“Listen to him; would you, Frank?” cried Bluff. “Always wanting to eat,
and cut down our stock of rations. Why, it isn’t more’n four o’clock
yet, and at this time of year it won’t get dark till near eight.”

“Four hours more!” called out the indignant Jerry; “do you mean we don’t
get any of that good grub till then? I just won’t stand for it, that’s
what! And I give you fair warning right now, that at five, sharp, I
start the fire a-going in that stove. I’m going to get the first meal
aboard, because Frank said I might; so don’t either one of you open your
mouths to say a word.”

“Oh! all right,” returned Bluff; who had really been managing matters so
as to coax Jerry to undertake this part of the drudgery; when he would
praise up his cooking in such a way that the other could hardly wait for
another meal-time to roll around; “we know there isn’t a fellow aboard
who can hold a candle to you when it comes to slinging dishes together;
that is, if you haven’t forgotten, since going to college, all you ever
knew in the old days.”

“Me forgot how to cook?” ejaculated Jerry, warmly, and falling into the
neat little trap in a way that made Frank turn to Will, and wink his eye
several times. “Why, I tell you I’m a better hand at it than ever I was.
After you’ve tasted my supper just you tell me the honest truth; that’s
all.”

“I will, Jerry,” said Bluff, keeping a straight face, though Frank knew
he was chuckling with delight over the success of his little dodge, “and
you can depend on it I’ll never try to deceive you. If you can beat the
meals you used to dish up in the old times, sure you must be a wonder.”

“There’s smoke around that bend there, Frank; what do you suppose makes
it?” Will asked at this interesting moment.

“I suppose some steamboat is coming up the river,” replied Frank.

“That’s right,” added Bluff, who had very good ears. “The breeze is dead
against us, but I can hear the whoof of her escape steampipes as she
butts up against the stiff current. I reckon we’ll all get used to that
grunting sound before we wind up this trip.”

“I hope she gives us plenty of room,” continued Will, a little
nervously, as he planted himself where he thought he could get the best
view of the oncoming river boat, so that he could snap a picture of the
very first craft they met after starting on their long voyage.

Bluff, being more daring by nature, started to laugh at what Will said.

“You’re sure the timid one, Will,” he remarked, contemptuously, perhaps,
or it might be in a sort of condescending way; “why, the river is big,
and there’s plenty of room for a dozen steamboats to pass us by; unless
the pilots happen to be taking a snooze at the wheel.”

“There she pokes her nose around the bend!” called out Jerry.

“Seems to me, Frank, that she’s heading right at us, like there was only
one little channel in this big river, and we happened to be sailing down
the same. Say, don’t you think we ought to get a move on, and pull
farther over to the shore?” and Will dropped his camera to the deck, as
he laid a hand on the steering oar, which Frank had started to push
against once more.

“Jump in, boys, and go at it with all your might!” Frank called out.

Bluff and Jerry began to realize that, after all, a river may be narrow,
even if the banks do seem to be far apart; since there can be only fifty
or one hundred or two hundred feet in which a steamboat drawing a
certain amount of water may with safety proceed.

The boat that was pushing up the river was indeed heading directly for
them. Perhaps the pilot was doing something else in his little cage
aloft, for just at the minute none of them could see him there. He may
have stooped down to light his pipe, having secured the wheel meanwhile.

“Oh! we’re going to be run down right in the start of the trip!”
exclaimed Will, whose face had turned white as he saw the steamboat
continuing to head in a direct line for the _Pot Luck_.

“Push harder, boys!” cried Frank, shutting his teeth tight together, and
throwing his weight against the bending oar with the ferocity that a
bucking “tackle” might show in a battle on the gridiron, when the fate
of the game depended on his grappling with the fellow who was running
with the ball for a decisive touchdown.

Bluff and Jerry saw how serious the situation was, and they bent every
energy in their frames toward doing something that would cause the
clumsy houseboat to move out of the way of the oncoming craft.

Already, in imagination, they could hear the crash as the bow cut them
down; and the next instant they would be struggling in the current, away
out from the shore, and likely to be drawn under the stern wheel of the
unattached towboat.

Just then the steersman raised up his head in view in the frame that
marked the window of the pilot house. They saw him stare at them as
though hardly able to believe his eyes. Then he started to frantically
whirl the wheel around, as if hoping to yet avert the accident that
seemed so sure. The boat began to respond to his demand, but so slowly
that it still looked as though only by what would be next door to a
miracle could the _Pot Luck_ avoid being smashed into kindling wood
against the bow of the advancing power craft.

And yet, such was the boy’s passion for his hobby, that Will, leaving
the sweep, at which he could not find room beside his chums, sprang over
to his camera, and took a picture of the nearby towboat, even while
expecting to hear the shock of collision the next minute.




CHAPTER V—THE FIRST NIGHT AFLOAT


“Hard a-port!” the pilot of the river boat was calling.

Fortunately, that was just what Frank had started to do. Had his
judgment been at all defective in the start, all would have been lost;
for there was certainly no time to reverse, and go the other way.

It was quite an exciting time. Will managed to “snap” the three boys
straining at that clumsy big steering oar called the “sweep”; with the
towboat apparently dead ahead. It would, doubtless, give him an odd
little creep every time he looked at the picture; for of the quartette
Will was more inclined to be timid than any of his chums.

Of course the river boat had shut off steam, and was no longer pushing
hard up against the current. Indeed, her stern wheel even began to churn
the water wildly, in the endeavor to back, and thus at least lessen the
blow, if one had to follow.

It was the onward rush of the houseboat with the current that proved the
most dangerous factor in the matter; for there was no means of staying
the progress of the _Pot Luck_.

Closer still they came; and Will even gripped a portion of the gunwale
of the floating craft, under the impression that a collision was about
due; when all of a sudden some new freak of the current seemed to seize
the apparently doomed houseboat, for with a whirl the _Pot Luck_ started
on a new tack.

They passed so close to the side of the towboat that any one of the boys
might, had they so desired, thrust out a hand, and touched the planking.

Frank sighed with relief, to realize that after all their voyage was not
fated to be nipped in the bud at the very start.

“Hurrah!” cried Bluff; but his voice was too weak for the sound to be
much louder than a hoarse croak.

The pilot was shaking his fist at them from above as they swept past,
and uttering hard words. Little they cared for what he said, since every
boyish heart was full of thanksgiving, after the scare. Possibly they
were in the wrong, since the channel seemed to be no place for a
helpless houseboat likely to be met at any time by an up-river tow that
would stretch from side to side.

“Whew! that was a narrow escape, though!” Jerry exclaimed, as he fell
back, panting for breath after his labor at the sweep.

“It ought to teach us a lesson while we’re on the upper Mississippi,”
Frank remarked, himself willing to rest a bit from his labors.

“You don’t mean, I hope, that we ought to learn to talk back, so as to
give these river pilots as good as they send?” ventured Will, now
recovering from his attack of the “shakes,” and hoping none of his mates
had noticed how pale he had been.

“That would take years of practice, even if a fellow wanted to try it,”
replied Frank, with a nervous little laugh. “No, what I meant was this:
while the river is as small as it is now, with only a certain channel
for big boats to follow, we must keep nearer the shore, and out of the
passage. Then we’ll stand no danger of being run down, you see.”

“Oh!” remarked Bluff, with uplifted eyebrows; “that’s the way it stands,
eh? And I was dead sure the fault all lay with that sleepy pilot, He
must have been taking a nap, not to see us, till it was nearly too late
to keep from smashing into us.”

“Well, I hardly believe it was as bad as that,” Frank affirmed. “He had
a pipe between his teeth when he poked his head up, and I imagine he
must have stooped just to light it, so as to be out of the wind. But I
hope it will be a long day before we have another shave as close as that
one.”

There were still a couple of hours of daylight left before evening would
descend upon them, and they considered it good policy to keep on the
move for some time yet. When the sun had set they could look for a
promising place at which to tie up, and spend the coming night.

To these boys, accustomed as they were to a small lake, and a stream
connected with the same that was hardly more than a creek, the upper
Mississippi seemed particularly grand. It was a noble river, with very
picturesque shores, and something new attracting their eager attention
with almost every passing minute.

Later on in the voyage, when they were navigating the lower stretches of
the mighty river, its vastness might appal them, but could never excite
their admiration as this early part of the cruise did.

There were not many vessels afloat at this stage. Navigation does not
begin to show such bustle above Cairo as below the junction city, where
the flood of the Ohio is the first considerable body of water to join
forces with the Mississippi.

Still, to these boys from the interior, there was much to see; and one
or the other seemed to be calling out perpetually, drawing attention to
certain features of the landscape on either bank, the river itself, or
some craft that appeared in view.

True to his word, Jerry, at a certain hour, vanished within the cabin;
and presently smoke ascending from the pipe that projected above the
flat roof announced that the first stage of supper had been taken.

By slow degrees Frank was working the boat in toward the shore on which
it had been decided to pass the night. This being their first experience
aboard such a craft, he believed that they had better take no risks of
losing a good chance for anchoring to a friendly tree.

True, there did seem to be an anchor aboard, to be used in an emergency;
but Frank had learned from Mr. Whittaker that the best way for tying up
for the night was to find some means of using the stout cable. And he
had also been warned to beware of getting into a shallow creek; since
the river has a mean way of sometimes dropping half a foot during a
single night; and in consequence they might find the houseboat stranded
until another rise came along, which, in summer time, might not be for
several weeks.

Perhaps the delightful aroma that began to drift out of the partly open
cabin door helped to urge Frank to hasten. At any rate, in less than
half an hour after Jerry disappeared, the clumsy boat was pushed in
close to the overhanging shore, and nimble Bluff clambered up the bank,
to whip the cable-end twice around an accommodating tree that happened
to be growing just where it would prove of greatest use to the young
river cruisers.

After that there was really little to do. Bluff got out a couple of fish
lines and proceeded to cast them from the stern, having secured a piece
of meat from the cook with which to bait them.

Before they went to bed he had hauled in quite a good-sized channel
catfish, an ugly, dark-skinned creature, with keen pointed spikes along
his spine, which Frank warned them must be avoided unless they wished to
have a poisoned hand. Yet uninviting as the fish looked, the boys all
pronounced it good eating when, in the morning, they had it for
breakfast.

Night settled down about them as Jerry announced that supper was ready.
The illumination of the interior of the cabin was not all that they
could wish, and more than one complaint was heard as they sat around the
table, which when not in use could be dropped so that it lay along the
wall.

“I think I saw a big lamp somewhere about,” Frank declared; “and
to-morrow I’ll see what I can do with it. Yes, there’s where it used to
hang, right over the table. If it can be made to work it ought to give
us plenty of light. Bring out the two lanterns we made sure to fetch
along, Bluff; with their help we might get on for one night.”

Indeed, they were all so happy that it would take many shortcomings of
this type to disturb them to any great extent.

It had really been a whole year now since the Outdoor Chums had enjoyed
an outing together, because of being away at college. Old memories
thronged their minds as they sat there, enjoying that first meal, and
the talk was connected with many events of the past.

“I haven’t had such a feed all the time I’ve been away from home,”
declared Bluff. “And, Jerry, honest now, I really begin to believe that
you _have_ improved in your cooking more’n a little.”

Jerry fell into the trap in a way that made Frank smile behind his hand.

“A little!” he echoed, warmly; “why, I’m going to surprise the lot of
you pretty soon. You wait and see. I used to be a greenhorn, and do
things just in the old rough and ready camp way; but now I’ve studied
the scientific methods of a _chef_. And I’ve got a whole lot of messes
I’m going to ring on you fellows sooner or later.”

“If they’re as good as what you gave us to-night, you can’t begin too
soon,” remarked Bluff, keeping his face straight; though Frank saw him
send a sly wink in his direction once or twice.

All of the boys were tired, and anxious to try their bunks. These were
ranged along one side of the cabin wall, two and two, “Pullman style,”
as Bluff called it.

They had brought their own blankets along, because it was not known
whether the boat was supplied. Plenty were found aboard in a box; but
they smelled so strongly of camphor that the boys preferred to use their
own.

Frank was the last one to crawl in. He had taken a turn on deck to see
that all was well, and no peril hanging over them from a break in the
cable. This uneasiness of the first night afloat would soon wear away,
of course; when the boys might be able to take things as they came
without worrying about anything.

Frank felt very comfortable in his bunk, and soon snuggled down to
sleep. He lay there for half an hour or more, however, the situation was
so novel to him; but finally it must have passed away.

Some time later he awoke, and in the darkness was for the moment unable
to place himself. He could hear the other boys breathing hard, and also
the gurgle of the river as it swirled past the blunt end of the beamy
houseboat.

Then Frank received a sudden shock. Plainly he heard someone try the
door of the cabin from without, as though a prowler had dropped on the
deck of the _Pot Luck_, and was endeavoring to find an entrance; bent on
stealing some of the goods which the young voyagers had loaded up with,
when making their start on the long cruise down the Mississippi.




CHAPTER VI—WHAT FRANK FOUND ON DECK


Frank sat up part way, leaning on his elbow, as he listened for a
repetition of the strange sound. His heart was beating at an unusual
rate, but his mind was as clear as a bell.

Just then he remembered placing his shotgun within reach of his extended
arm, if he but chose to lean out of the lower bunk. And he also
congratulated himself that the choice of sleeping quarters for the
voyage had favored him with one of the two bunks close to the floor of
the cabin.

Yes, he certainly could hear someone, or something, tampering with the
door. He knew that they had tied up in a rather lonely spot; but it was
hard to imagine any wild animal coming aboard to investigate this clumsy
craft.

And no wild animals, at least none found outside the countries of apes
and monkeys, were able to try the handle of a door, actually turning it
several times.

“What is it, Frank?” breathed a faint whisper close to his ears; and he
became conscious of the fact that Will had also heard the sound, and was
listening in his lower berth, his heart doubtless almost standing still
with sudden anxiety.

For answer Frank slipped gently out of his bed. His outstretched hand
came in contact with his gun, simply because he knew just where he had
placed the weapon. It was a double-barreled shotgun, a hammerless, that
had been given to Frank at his last birthday by his three chums, and
which as yet he had not had the pleasure of using much.

He knew that Will must have guessed what he was doing, for he caught the
intake of breath that signified renewed alarm.

Frank, however, did not creep toward the door, and fling it suddenly
open, as no doubt his chum anticipated he would do. He had not the
slightest idea of shooting at any intruder, his sole intention being to
give the other a good scare, that would be apt to make him think twice
before returning again to the moored houseboat.

There were four windows to the cabin, small affairs, each covered with
the heavy wire that is used in stables, and places where, air being
needed, it is also advisable to keep out intruders. But Frank happened
to know that one of these had been only partly covered in this manner,
and that there was plenty of room whereby he could thrust the barrels of
his gun out, in order to shoot.

This he did without any further delay.

The boom of the shotgun sounded loud in the confined space of the
houseboat cabin.

“Whoop!” yelled Bluff, as he came tumbling down from his elevated berth,
doubtless under the impression that an earthquake had dropped in upon
them for a visit.

Jerry followed suit instantly. Meanwhile, Frank was feeling for his
little electric torch, which he had kept within reach of his hand, in
case he wanted to see the time during the night, an alarm clock being
one of the fixtures of the _Pot Luck_ equipment.

“What under the sun happened?” gasped Jerry; and just then Frank snapped
on the bright ray of light, when they immediately saw that he was
holding his gun in the other hand.

“Get some clothes on, fellows!” said Frank, quietly; yet smiling to see
the blank expression on the faces of the pair who had been aroused as if
by the discharge of a cannon.

“What did you shoot, Frank?” demanded Bluff, as, in obedience to the
words of one who was looked up to as the leader of the set, he began to
draw on a pair of trousers, with the others following suit.

“Nothing,” replied Frank.

“But say, you didn’t do that just to give us a scare; that wouldn’t be
like you, Frank,” ventured Jerry. “If it were Bluff here, I’d think that
was the case, because he’s always trying some joke or other. Tell us,
Frank, what’s up?”

“We heard some wild animal trying to get in here, and Frank shot it
through one of the windows!” Will declared, solemnly; for that was just
what he believed had happened.

“Did you, Frank; and how could you see to do it, with the night so dark
outside?” Jerry demanded.

“Will heard the sound,” Frank explained, “but it was no animal at all,
only some person trying to get in.”

“Tell me that; will you!” burst out Bluff. “Trying to rob us the very
first night out! Lucky there’s a bolt on the door, as well as a padlock
outside; and that we thought to shoot it home. But, Frank, did you hit
him; and do you think the poor critter is lying out there now, badly
hurt?”

“Don’t be foolish, Bluff!” exclaimed Frank, indignantly. “You know me
better than to think I’d aim at a human being, when there was no need of
it. I just banged away up in the air to give him a scare. And I rather
think it filled the bill all right.”

“Let’s go out and see,” suggested the impetuous Bluff, starting for the
door.

“Hold on a minute, till everybody is ready,” cautioned Frank; “better
get your shoes on, too, boys; because it’s cold on deck at this time of
night.”

Presently all pronounced themselves as ready to stroll outside, and see
what was awaiting them. From the varied assortment of dangerous weapons
which the chums brandished, one might think they anticipated finding the
deck fairly swarming with river pirates; and that a serious mix-up was
in store. Will carried the hatchet; Bluff his pump-gun, about which the
others were always railing; Jerry had a rifle; while, as we know, Frank
still kept his reliable double-barreled present handy.

“Shall I open the door now?” demanded the impatient and daring Bluff.

“Yes, and be careful how you use that gun of yours,” warned Frank, who
knew the hasty ways of the other of old.

So Bluff flung the door wide open, and they poured forth. He carried a
lighted lantern in addition to his gun; and Frank still had that useful
little electric hand-torch in commission, so that there promised to be
plenty of light provided, by means of which the whole deck, from stem to
stern, could be illuminated.

Bluff experienced a sense of bitter disappointment, for nothing jumped
at him as he had really hoped might be the case. Instead, all seemed
peaceful and quiet out there under the summer stars. The river whined
and gurgled as it continued to run against an obstruction in the way of
the broad houseboat; little wavelets lapped the shore close by; but
there was no other sound save the far-away wheeze of a towboat’s
exhaust, as it bucked the current of the swift-flowing river, with
possibly a raft of loaded barges in charge.

“Why, there’s not a thing here, Frank,” exclaimed Bluff, looking around
him, and blinking like an owl at the light of his own lantern.

Frank had not expected to discover anybody still crouching there on the
deck. He believed that sudden roar of his gun would be enough to send
the trespasser flying, whoever he might be.

“I was pretty sure we wouldn’t find him here,” he remarked, casting his
eyes around at the same time.

“Say, it couldn’t be that some animal gnawing, a rat maybe, fooled you
bad, I suppose, Frank?” suggested the doubting Jerry.

“How about that, Will?” asked the one addressed, turning to his chum.

“Oh! I heard it as plain as anything,” Will hastened to declare,
vehemently; “and just as Frank said, it must have been somebody trying
to open the door. First I thought of panthers and alligators and all
those things; but now I just know it must have been a man, because he
turned the knob of the door, and even shook it a little as if he might
be angry because it was fast.”

“Listen to the nerve of that!” exclaimed Bluff. “Thinkin’ we expected to
keep open house on this trip. Tried the door, did he? Wanted to come in
and join the Outdoor Chums! Perhaps if we’d left that door unfastened
we’d have waked up in the morning to find a tramp sleeping on the floor
of the cabin.”

“What is it, Frank?” asked the nervous Will, upon seeing the other start
forward.

For answer Frank stooped down, and seemed to pick some object from the
deck, just where the gunwale of the boat cast a little shadow.

“This doesn’t belong to anybody here, I reckon?” he remarked, holding
aloft the object he had found.

“A hat, and an old slouch one at that!” exclaimed Will.

“I pass!” remarked Bluff, immediately.

“Give me the go-by, Frank; never saw it before now!” called out Jerry,
after he had taken one good look at the head covering, which differed in
every way from such hats as the boys carried along with them.

“And,” Frank went on to say, “as it certainly wasn’t here when we went
to bed, we can set it down as pretty sure the fellow who crept aboard
the _Pot Luck_ while we were asleep dropped it, when he had to cut and
run so lively after my shot.”

“That goes,” observed Jerry, with conviction in his voice; for he
evidently was in agreement with all that Frank said.

“Looks to me like a tramp’s hat,” remarked Will, as he bent closer to
examine. “But see here, Frank, there’s some marks inside; aren’t there?”

“Letters, too,” echoed Jerry, crowding closer.

Frank held up the hat so that the light from his torch would cover the
inside; and there, sure enough, the boys discovered three letters
fastened to the crown of the old felt head covering.

They stared at them as if hardly able to believe their eyes, and there
was a good reason for this, since the letters were:

  M. T. S.
“My goodness!” ejaculated Will, he being the first to recover his
breath; and what he said seemed to voice the sentiments of his chums,
for they were all of one mind there; “M. T. S. it says, fellows; and
don’t you see those letters stand for Marcus Stackpole, the very man
Uncle Felix warned us never to let come aboard of his houseboat! And
here he’s tried to break in the very first night we’re on the river!
Don’t it beat everything though, what it all means?”




CHAPTER VII—ANOTHER CARELESS PILOT


When the four chums went back into the cabin their faces were a little
grave. It was not only Will who was wondering now what the nature of the
difference between old Uncle Felix and this strange Marcus Stackpole
could be, that made the owner of the houseboat seem to detest the other
so much, and he on his part appear so much in earnest to get aboard the
_Pot Luck_.

“Locked the door again; did you, Frank?” Jerry asked, as they sat down
for a little talk in the cabin, with the lantern placed on the table.

“You can make up your mind he did,” replied Will; “and I tried it in the
bargain, to make sure it was fast. You see, we don’t know what sort of a
fellow this Stackpole might turn out to be. Uncle is afraid of him
somehow. And it seems to me he must have something on board the old boat
that this Marcus, somehow, wants pretty bad, if he’s willing to take
such chances to get it.”

“There you are!” exclaimed Jerry, quickly; “the more you think about it,
the stronger you’ll believe my idea is, that there must be some sort of
a treasure hid about here, and this Marcus wants to get his hands on the
same. Laugh at me again, now, will you, when I’m sounding the walls, and
peeking into corners? I’m going to keep it up till I find out I’m on the
wrong tack; then I’ll go about.”

But all of them soon grew sleepy again, and Frank suggested that they
turn in.

“I don’t believe he’ll come back to-night, anyhow,” he remarked, as he
began to get himself ready for bed again. “That sudden shot so close to
his ears must have frightened Marcus some. Perhaps he even thought I was
trying to fill him full of Number Sevens at short range.”

“Oh! wouldn’t I have liked to see him skipping up the bank, though,”
sighed Will, who seemed to miss so many splendid views, from one cause
or another.

“Well, maybe another time you’ll get that chance,” said Jerry,
consolingly, as he got into his upper berth; having placed his repeating
shotgun on a couple of large nails which seemed to have been driven into
the wall conveniently near, as if for this very purpose.

Presently Frank “doused the glim,” by blowing out the lantern; and once
more darkness and silence reigned in the cabin of the _Pot Luck_.

Nor was there any further disturbance that night. With the coming of
daylight through the small windows facing the east Frank was astir; and,
hearing him moving, first one, and then another of his chums began to
yawn and stretch.

“Everything all right, Frank?” asked Will, crawling from his bunk.

“Seems like it,” was the reply.

“What do we want to do first?” asked Bluff, sliding down from above.

“Well, for my part, I feel like taking a morning dip,” Frank answered.

“That sounds good to me, too!” called out Jerry, poking his head out
after the manner of a cautious old tortoise.

Inside of ten minutes the whole four were splashing in the river close
to the bank. The water was cool and invigorating, and, being lusty boys,
they certainly seemed to enjoy it.

Frank saw to it that no one stayed in too long; and after getting aboard
they rubbed down with towels brought for this very purpose. Then every
one declared himself as hungry as a bear, and preparations for breakfast
were in order.

As Jerry had constituted himself chief cook for the trip, to be relieved
at intervals by one of the others, Bluff volunteered to lay in a supply
of firewood for the little stove.

“Give me the axe, and I’ll go ashore to cut up a log,” he remarked.

Frank was secretly amused to see that the fire-eater also carried his
gun ashore with him. Evidently he had a little suspicion that the
bothersome man might be still hovering around the vicinity, and would
have to be “shooed off” by a threatening display of hardware, in the
shape of a gun that could shoot six times without being removed from the
shoulder.

Presently the steady strokes of the axe told that Bluff was exercising
his muscles to good advantage, and that they could count on at least two
days’ supply of firewood as a result of his labors.

The breakfast was “prime,” everybody admitted; and Jerry was advised to
keep a line or two out for stray catfish every time they tied up for a
stop. There were buffalo fish to be caught, Mr. Whittaker had assured
them, that, while a little coarse, would be found good eating; and all
of them happened to be rather fond of fish as a diet, which was a good
thing, under the circumstances.

“It isn’t such a hard job to get a start on the old boat, anyhow,”
remarked Jerry, as with poles they pushed away from the bank, until the
slow current near the shore began to catch them in its grip, and they
found the _Pot Luck_ moving.

Once they had attained the proper distance from shore, really there was
little to do all day long, but keep an eye on things, and make sure the
boat did not turn sideways to the stream.

By keeping away from the channel they avoided all danger from such boats
as passed up or down the river.

During the morning Will, who had been looking steadily back over the
course they had come, called the attention of the others to something
which he seemed to think merited their notice.

“That dinky little power-boat yonder keeps hovering just so far behind
us,” he said, uneasily.

“Well, the fellows aboard have a right to go and come just as they
please,” Frank remarked, though he gave the object in question a long
look, and then went into the cabin for the field glasses.

“Sometimes he comes as close as he is now,” Will went on to say; “and
then he seems to stop still, till you can hardly see him in the dim
distance, when he’ll start up again. I think sometimes they’re fishing,
and anchor in favorite places. Then again I seem to think that perhaps
he may be aboard.”

“By that you mean our visitor of last night, Marcus Stackpole, I
reckon?” Jerry asked.

“What do you see, Frank; any fellow without his head-covering on?” Bluff
inquired, at the same time.

“There seem to be several men aboard, but I don’t see them fishing,”
Frank replied. “The fact is, one of them just pointed down the river;
but whether he was calling the attention of the others to this boat, or
something else, I can’t say.”

He took another look through the field glasses, and immediately laughed.

“Well, one of them has something in his hands now that looks like the
glasses I’m handling,” he said. “Yes, and there he goes, leveling it at
us!”

“That settles it!” exclaimed Jerry. “They’re interested in this boat,
and, ten to one, the fellow we had aboard last night came from that same
launch. Well, if that doesn’t knock the high persimmon down, though! We
thought this M. S. was a common, every-day tramp; and here it turns out
that he owns a private power yacht, and can go cruising on his own hook,
just where he likes.”

“Tell you what, boys,” remarked Will; “chances are, he’s some sort of
rascal, perhaps a real river pirate; and that squatty little power-boat
is being used for robbery on the big water highway!”

“Well, the boat looks dingy and dark, like all buccaneer craft are, they
say, you know,” Will went on, quite undismayed by this reception of his
startling theory.

Frank himself was more than puzzled. He could not seem to get an inkling
as to what the truth might be.

The little launch far away up the river did seem to be acting very
strangely. And those aboard were certainly curious with regard to the
_Pot Luck_, for they had their glasses trained on the houseboat at
different times. Then, apparently, the power-boat was anchored again,
for the boys began drawing further and further away from it, until the
haze of distance seemed to entirely obliterate the suspicious craft from
their observation.

“Why don’t they come right along, and pass us by?” asked Will.

“That’s a part of the game, it seems,” ventured Jerry; “just to hang
around, and wait for another chance to creep aboard this jolly old
rover. But make up your minds, fellows, we’ll be ready to give ’em a
warm reception.”

“Yes,” broke in Bluff, “and if I only had a chance to fire at long
range, I’d be tempted to let ’em feel how hot shot can get, when fired
from a real gun!” and he gave Jerry an odd look as he said this.

The boys decided that since the day was rather warm they would do with a
cold “snack” at noon, leaving the getting of dinner until evening
arrived, with its cooling airs.

Bluff was perched high up in the bow, and engaged in eating his second
ham sandwich, while he observed a steamboat turning a bend far below,
and made some humorous remarks concerning river pilots in general.

Jerry leaned against the sweep, and was supposed to be watching to see
that the boat did not swerve too much while moving steadily along in the
current. Frank and Will were inside, cutting a fresh supply of bread,
with which to make their second helping, the boiled ham coming in very
handy for the purpose; and some cold coffee left over from the early
morning meal answering for a drink.

Frank had just risen to his feet, and was taking the first bite out of
his sandwich when he heard a screech from without, and felt a sudden
shock.

Will gave a shout, and let the knife with which he was carving the ham,
fall on the table.

“They’re boarding us, Frank!” he called out, as they both darted for the
door, passing through together, and appearing on the deck; where they
found Jerry making all sorts of strenuous efforts to swing the boat
around, as she seemed to be broadside to the current.

As Frank looked around, the first alarming thing he noticed was that
Jerry seemed to be utterly alone on deck; and yet a minute before he had
surely heard the voice of Bluff calling out to the one at the sweep.

Bluff had certainly disappeared.




CHAPTER VIII—FACE TO FACE AT LAST


“What happened?” cried Frank, unable to understand why the boat acted so
queerly, and seemed trying to head up-stream again.

“Must be a snag has hold of her, and is trying to turn her around!”
grunted the straining Jerry; thereby acknowledging that he had not kept
as good a lookout ahead as a careful pilot should, or he would certainly
have known where a snag lay hidden, by the swirl of water about it.

“Where’s Bluff?” cried Will.

“Oh! reckon he went over to see what sort of a snag it was!” replied
Jerry.

Then Frank remembered that the last thing he had seen of Bluff he was
perched on the bulwark of the boat, with his back down the river, and
enjoying his second relay of lunch.

“He’s been knocked overboard by the sudden stop of the boat!” he
exclaimed, making a rush for the bow.

As he looked over, he discovered the object of his anxiety holding on to
the stem of the craft with desperate zeal. Doubtless, as he was sent
flying, losing his balance, Bluff had had the good sense to let his
sandwich go, and seize the first projection he could find, to prevent
his being carried under the bulky craft, if she continued on
down-stream.

“I’m here, right-side up with care, Frank!” he spluttered; “and I don’t
like it any too well, either. So please reach me your helping hand, and
give a pull.”

Frank called to Will to hurry over and help, for he realized that Bluff,
with all his clothes thoroughly soaked, would be too much of a load for
one.

So together they drew him up, none the worse for his ducking, save that
he must change his clothes.

“Worst thing about it,” declared Bluff, good-naturedly, when the others
were standing around, grinning at his forlorn appearance, “is that I
lost that nice wedge of ham. Somebody make me up another sandwich; won’t
you, while I get out of these soggy duds, and into some dry ones?”

“But the first thing we ought to do is to swing the boat free from that
snag,” remarked Frank, “I don’t fancy being held up here like this. It
must be a grounded log, with one end pointing up-stream; and we’re stuck
on that like a pivot, by the way the boat swings around, first this way,
then that.”

He took an observation, and found out just where the point of the snag
seemed to be pressing into the bottom planks of the houseboat.

“By good luck it’s over on one side,” Frank remarked, after a while;
“and if we all throw our weight over to starboard, perhaps the boat may
list enough to let her slip off. Come along, and try it, anyhow. If that
fails, we may have to start something else moving.”

But it did not fail, fortunately. Just as Frank had said, the nose of
the submerged log happened to be against the slippery bottom of the
houseboat near the edge, and a very small list started the craft to
sliding. They heard a grating noise, and then the boat once more came to
an even keel, starting to glide along with the current.

Of course it was easy enough, after that, to work her head around, so
that it again pointed down the river.

“I’ll keep a better lookout after this, Frank,” Jerry asserted, knowing
that the fault was principally his, since he had been left in charge as
pilot of the expedition.

Will had meanwhile obligingly made up another “snack” for the swimmer;
and Bluff ate it with the utmost unconcern, just as though falling
overboard from a snagged houseboat were an every-day occurrence in his
experience.

During the afternoon they sighted the first real shantyboat seen on the
cruise. A savage dog aboard barked at them as long as they were passing;
for the boat happened to be tied up to the shore at the time. A
rough-looking man was filing a saw, and Frank gave it as his opinion
that he followed this trade; dropping down the river, a mile or so at a
time, as business permitted, and possibly following the profession of
sewing-machine agent as well.

Late that afternoon it began to look blustery, and Frank was more or
less concerned as to where they might find a suitable place at which to
tie up for the coming night.

They had passed several good spots, but it was too early to stop
drifting for the day; and now that they wanted a shelter, and a stout
post for the cable, both seemed absent.

“Looks like something ahead there, Frank,” announced Jerry, who still
stuck to the heavy sweep, as though he wanted to make amends for his
carelessness earlier in the day.

“Yes, you’re right,” the other answered; “and unless my eyes tell me
wrong, seems as if there might be several boats collected there. I can
see a shantyboat; there are some small row-boats, and another big craft
moored to the shore that must be a rich man’s pleasure craft.”

“Ought we take chances by joining them?” asked cautious Will.

Frank swept a look around at the darkening sky ahead.

“The way things look,” he observed, reluctantly, “I’m afraid we’ll have
to chance it for once, though we were warned to keep away from other
boats all we could. But there is some bad weather coming, and perhaps
these fellows know it, and have put in here to avoid being caught below
in the open.”

“Then shall I swing her in toward the shore now?” asked Jerry.

“I’ll give you a helping hand,” volunteered Frank, who knew the
sensitive nature of his chum, and understood how, in all probability,
Jerry must have been repenting of his carelessness all the afternoon.

Between them they easily managed to get the cumbersome houseboat into
the cove where the others lay snugly. It was a good harbor, at any rate,
in case of a blow; and Frank would have been greatly pleased did the
_Pot Luck_ lie there all alone.

“Say, that’s a fine affair there,” remarked Bluff, as he stood at the
side, and looked toward the large craft that snuggled against the shore,
being held by strong cables both above and below; “and some rich
fellow’s pleasure boat, too, because she can go up or down the river,
having a gasolene engine. I’d like to see what she might be like inside.
There’s a young fellow standing watching us, Frank; would you mind if I
stepped over, and struck up an acquaintance with him?”

“Sure not, Bluff; and I’ll go you one better by keeping you company.”

“Fine,” remarked Bluff; “just wait a minute, and I’ll join you. I want
to get my gun.”

“Hold on,” laughed Frank; “what do you think you’re going to run up
against here? Ten to one these people are all honest chaps. Why, I can
see a sign right now, on one of the shantyboats, and it tells us that
the man aboard is a locksmith.”

“That’s just it,” spoke up Bluff, as he dived into the cabin, and came
out again bearing his repeater; “don’t you see that he’s got what’s
meant to be a picture of a gun on his sign? That means he mends them;
and I’ve a notion my pump-gun needs a little attention.”

“Same old story, eh?” remarked Frank; “I remember that long ago it used
to be getting out of order every little while, and made you lots of
trouble.”

“Oh! it’s nothing to speak of,” Bluff declared, always ready to stand up
in defense of his arms; “but while I had the chance I thought it would
be a good thing to have a repair man take a look at it. When you want a
gun you want it bad; and it ought to be always ready for use.”

“Glad to hear you say that, Bluff,” Frank admitted; because as a rule
his chum was inclined to be careless in his ways.

Leaving Jerry starting preparations for the supper, with Will to assist
in case of need, the other two stepped ashore, and sauntered toward the
clump of boats.

Frank noticed that the young fellow watched them coming with something
of interest; but then, that would only be natural under such
circumstances. He also made certain that the other was a complete
stranger, and therefore could not be one of Oswald Fredericks’ college
cronies.

“Howdy, strangers?” remarked the other, as they came up; “I suppose,
now, that you’re off on a little trip, the same as I am, with my helper
here?” and he pointed to a husky-looking fellow who was wiping some
machinery.

This fact seemed to allay any slight suspicion the lads may have
entertained in the beginning, so they stopped to chat with the two.
Instead of hurrying on in the direction of the boat where the gun
repairer had his headquarters, Bluff hovered around. To tell the truth,
he was greatly struck with the elaborate appearance of the boat, which
had the name of _Lounger_ painted on her bow; and he was hoping the
owner would invite them both inside to see how she was fitted up.

This was just what did happen presently, as they continued to talk.
Frank might have thought it wise to decline the invitation, giving as an
excuse the plea that the hour was growing late; but the impetuous Bluff
was not going to be cheated out of a treat so easily.

“Sure we’ll step in, and look around, since you’re so kind as to invite
us,” he declared, before Frank could say a word. “Some fine day, when my
ship comes home, I may be wanting to build a boat like this to knock
about in; and I’d like to know how you’ve arranged things inside. Come
along, Frank; plenty of time.”

Of course Frank could not well hold back after that, so he followed at
the heels of the others.

“Please step in, both of you!” said the owner of the fine pleasure
houseboat, and as he said this, he opened the cabin door, allowing the
eager Bluff to enter; and then gently pushing Frank after him, closed
the door behind him.

“Wait, I’ve got electrics here, and I’ll push the button. This is what
you might call a modern, up-to-date boat, and you’ll get the surprise of
your life right now.”

They surely did; for as the light suddenly sprang up they saw sitting
about the luxuriously-furnished cabin three other fellows, in whom they
easily recognized Oswald Fredericks and his college chums, Raymond Ellis
and Duke Fletcher!

It was certainly a tableau, as the rivals stared at each other.




CHAPTER IX—THE GAME OF BLUFF


“Why, hello! Langdon, just dropped in to see me, eh? Rather nice of you,
too, considering how little we got together in college!”

Fredericks, as he said this, made a movement with his hand toward the
young fellow who had ushered Frank and Bluff into the cabin of the big
and commodious power houseboat; and immediately the grind of a key in
the lock told that he had seen to it that the way of escape was cut off.

They were four to two, a rather top-heavy arrangement, Frank thought, as
he backed a little, so as to keep any of the fellows from getting behind
him.

Outwardly he seemed fairly calm, though his eyes were flashing with the
spirit of defiance that moved his soul.

“You know as well as anything, Fredericks,” he said, coldly, “that if
I’d had any idea this was your boat, nothing could have tempted me to
come in here, or bother you at all. But your friend told us it was his
boat, and that he was traveling all alone, except for the man who was
mending the engine out there.”

“Oh! well, Benedict only did what I asked him to do, when I saw that it
was your crazy old tub coming in to tie up here,” replied the other,
with a careless shrug of his shoulders. “Looked as if fortune wanted to
just play the whole thing right into my hands; for I was hoping this
very afternoon you’d happen along, as things began to seem dull.”

“Well, what are we to believe about this; is it a sort of trap, and do
you expect to jump on us, now you’ve got us in here?” asked Frank.

Apparently the other was surprised to see him take it so coolly. Perhaps
he had even hoped to hear Frank Langdon beg to be let off without any
trouble.

“Well, you see, the chance to even up old scores is a fine one, since
we’re two to your one,” the other remarked, bitterly.

“So far as I know, there are no scores to settle,” said Frank. “I never
knowingly wronged you, or tried to interfere with your business when in
college. In fact, on several occasions, I’ve even left a group of
fellows when you came along, because I didn’t want to have any trouble.”

“Yes, and that’s one of the things I’ve got against you, Langdon,”
declared Oswald, with a scowl. “It looked as if you felt a contempt for
me, and couldn’t even bear to be seen in my company. Some of the fellows
said as much, and told me I was foolish to stand for it.”

“But you surely knew yourself that it was never intended that way,
Fredericks. I wanted to be left alone to go my own way, and I knew that
some fellows had made up their minds to bring us to blows. Now, fighting
isn’t at all to my taste, though I’m sorry to say I’ve had to do my
share of it in my day. Just forget that there’s such a fellow as Frank
Langdon alive, and I’m sure you’ll never know otherwise for all of me.”

“He’s squealing, Ossie!” exclaimed Duke Fletcher.

“Yes,” broke in the second college chum, Raymond Ellis, “because we’ve
got him penned up here, where we can give him what he ought to have
gotten long ago, he sets up a whine that he looks on fighting as a moral
sin, and doesn’t want to indulge in it.”

Frank laughed in the face of this chap.

“Depend on it, Ellis,” he said, with cutting coldness, “that if ever I
am forced into fighting in a crowd where you figure, I’ve got something
to give you that’s been hanging fire a long time; in fact, ever since
you knocked down that half-witted Bailey boy, and bruised his face
because he said something you didn’t just like. When I heard of it I
said to myself that some fine day, if the chance comes, I’m going to pay
that debt back. If you think that time has come now, all right. Bluff,
you oughtn’t to be in this game, because you’ve never done anything to
irritate his lordship. They may let you out, perhaps.”

“Let me out!” roared the impulsive Bluff; “and leave you here alone with
the whole bunch of cowards? I’d like to see them do it, that’s all! And
what’s more, right now I want to give solemn warning that the first move
any fellow makes toward laying so much as the tip of his finger on you,
Frank, bang goes this gun!”

Bluff looked the part to the life. He was mad clear through, and the way
he swung that menacing weapon of his, first toward Oswald, who ducked,
and then covering one of the others, who turned as white as a sheet,
told the story.

Frank, who knew that the gun was quite destitute of a single charge,
since Bluff had been even then on the way to have it mended, could
hardly keep from laughing outright. But then, how were those fellows to
know anything like that?

“Here, hold on with that blunderbuss!” exclaimed Oswald; and small
wonder that there was a suspicious quiver to his voice, for Bluff
certainly looked equal to doing all he threatened so wildly.

“It was all a joke, see!” cried Ellis; and then as the gun swung again
so that it began to point toward him, unable to stand the strain any
longer, he dropped on his hands and knees, and crawled under the table.

Frank knew that nothing was to be feared any longer.

“I’ll trouble you to unlock that door,” he said, wheeling on the
astonished young man from St. Paul, who had been witnessing these
things, without having a word to say, the smile dying out of his face.

“Oh! sure, just as you say,” mumbled the other, hastening to comply;
“queer how some people don’t seem able to take a joke at all.”

“Yes, it looks like that, perhaps,” returned Frank, severely; “but only
for my chum here happening to bring his gun along, we might be having a
parrot and monkey time of it right now. Step to one side, or I might rub
up against you in passing. Come on, Bluff, you did it for them that
time, sure enough.”

With that Frank stepped outside, and Bluff quickly followed. Hardly had
the latter gotten free from the cabin than he turned, and “broke” his
gun, to show the disgusted conspirators it was quite empty, and that
they had been hoodwinked by his quick wit.

Still, none of them seemed to feel like rushing out after the retreating
pair. Frank, accompanied by his chum, walked to the shantyboat where the
sign of the locksmith hung. After a look at the pump-gun, the man said
he could fix it in ten minutes, so that it would work all right.
Accordingly the two boys sat down to wait until the job was completed.

It was getting quite dusky when they were ready to leave; and Bluff,
after a look outside, seeing that it would be necessary for them to pass
the pleasure boat of Fredericks again, bought half a dozen loaded shells
from the man.

“Now,” said Bluff, after he had injected one of these into the firing
chamber, “I feel safe in passing that boat. If they make any sort of a
move against us, I’ll let fly a load in the air first to warn ’em that
the repeater isn’t on the shelf any longer, but ready to do business at
the same old stand.”

“Well, be careful what you do, that’s all,” warned Frank, determined to
keep in close touch with his hot-headed comrade, so that in an emergency
he could snatch the gun away, if Bluff seemed disposed to use it the
wrong way.

But they were not molested at all. The big young chap who had been
tinkering with the engine, grinned as they passed by, and Frank thought
he nodded to them in a sort of friendly way, as though to say he
understood what had happened, and considered it a good joke on his
employer.

“Engine broke down?” asked Bluff, in a friendly manner, as he passed.

“Just what she has,” replied the other; “and if we send back to St. Paul
for a casting we may be stuck right here several days.”

“Hope it is a whole month,” muttered Bluff, as he trotted along at the
heels of his leader; and Frank, for that matter, echoed the wish, since
it would save them from more or less anxiety.

When they got aboard the _Pot Luck_ it was to find that supper was well
under way, and that the two who ran the house were quite ignorant of
what had been going on.

And as Bluff, in his impatient style, started to exclaim how he only
wished that Oswald had run up against Frank’s fist, both Will and Jerry
jumped to their feet, demanding that they hear the story.

Their indignation was justifiable when told of the trap Fredericks and
his set had laid for Frank. And Bluff was only too proud when he heard
Frank admit that if it had not been for his having his “terrible weapon”
along at the time, the chances were that when they two came back to the
boat, they would be bearing some of the marks of a fiercely contested
battle on their faces.

“And I want to serve notice here and now,” continued Bluff, as he
affectionately patted his pump-gun, and held it up to the gaze of the
others; “that after this there’s going to be no sort of sport made of
this noble weapon. Today it saved Frank and myself a mauling. When they
saw what it was, they cringed like a pack of cowards. Why, would you
believe it? that Ellis just crawled under the table! Shows the kind of
fellow he is. And, boys, the gun was empty and out of commission all the
while, remember.”

“Hurrah! bully for Bluff. He’s got the right name!” shouted Jerry, in
his enthusiasm, pretending to wave the hat he was not wearing at the
time.

“Promise me to never more sneer at a pump-gun, as long as I carry this
prize cannon along!” continued Bluff, seriously, but with a sparkle in
his eye.

“We solemnly promise!” said Will, holding up his right hand.

“I’ll try and control my indignation whenever I can, Bluff,” said Jerry.
“But all the same I’m thinking it was the fellow behind the gun, and not
that weapon itself, that deserves the praise. What’s the matter, Will;
you look as if you felt bad because you didn’t have a hand in it, too?”

“Oh! it’s the hardest luck ever,” said the other, in deep disgust. “Just
to think what a noble picture that would have made, with our chum
holding the crowd at bay with his gun; Frank ready to sail in and help;
and Ellis crawling under the table! I’m the most unfortunate fellow you
ever heard tell of, to miss such glorious chances. I wish you’d only
tell me when you think there’s anything going to happen, so I could jump
in, and immortalize you all. But some fine day I’ll be along when one of
these things happens; see if I don’t!”




CHAPTER X—A CALL FOR HELP


“I tell you what, Frank, that was a great scheme of yours, to think of
buying this little skiff for a dinghy, or tender!” remarked Bluff, three
days later, as he paddled ashore with the end of the cable they expected
to fasten to a tree, as the night was not far away.

“Well, I knew all along that every decent houseboat ought to have a
small skiff dangling along,” Frank answered, as he leaned over the side,
and watched the other hitch the painter to the bow of the large, roomy
craft, which continued to point down-stream; for, when fastening up for
the night, as stem and stern were so much alike, they never bothered
bringing the boat around, as that meant additional work in the morning
upon starting.

“And I expect to enjoy a heap of fishing from that same little affair,”
remarked Jerry, “when we get further along down the big river.”

“Now, heave ho! everybody, and we’ll have her snug alongside the bank in
a jiffy!” Frank called out, taking hold of the cable, while the others
used the several stout poles that had been secured for the purpose of
pushing. “There she is, right side up with care! Now, let’s hope we’ll
be better off than last night, when we got the cross current wash of the
Wisconsin River.”

“Well, those rowdies from Prairie du Chien didn’t find us after all,
thanks to Frank here, who expected they’d be looking, and got us to push
across that fierce current, till we hit on a splendid cove,” Will
observed.

“I saw that the river was rising,” Frank observed, “and that’s the only
time it’s really safe for a houseboat to enter one of those little bays.
No danger then of being caught on a sandbar, and left high and dry by
morning. Now, how about our supper to-night, boys? What’s going to be
the bill of fare?”

“Tell me first, Frank, how far below Dubuque are we now?” asked Will,
nervously.

“Oh! several miles; and you needn’t think we’ll be bothered to-night,”
the other replied, with a reassuring laugh.

“We seem to have left Oswald in the lurch, too, which is a good thing,
according to my notion; though I’ve been hoping some fine day that
stuck-up dude would run up against Frank, when the old score must be
fought out, and he’d get what’s been long due him.”

“Not forgetting our friend, Marcus,” added Jerry. “He made one little
try for the hidden treasure, and Frank scared him half to death by
firing his gun out of the window, so he never came back again. Guess he
wasn’t as bold a customer as he made us believe. And I’m still hunting
all over the boat for a tidy little nook, where Uncle Felix might have
hid that bunch of valuables; though up to date I must say I haven’t had
even the first smell of the treasure-trove.”

“How many days have we been coming this far, Frank?” persisted Will.

“Really four, though this will be our fifth night out,” replied the
manager of the expedition; for as usual that position had been saddled
on Frank’s shoulders, all of his chums having the utmost confidence that
he could fill the place better than any one of them.

“One good thing,” Bluff went on to say, “is the fact that every night
now that moon is going to improve, and grow larger. Why, before we know
it, we’ll be having beautiful moonlight nights, when a fellow’ll just
hate to turn in.”

“But let’s go back again to the mainstay, which is just plain grub. What
are we going to eat to-night?” Frank remarked.

And so for a few minutes that ever-interesting, and never-dull topic,
was discussed from all sides, everyone having a suggestion to make. In
the end, as usually happened, it was voted to leave the matter with
Jerry. He knew how to treat them well, Bluff declared with a proper
amount of smoothness that quite won the heart of the aspiring cook, and
made him resolve to merit the praise that was so lavishly bestowed on
him.

Of course the supper was voted a grand success. Jerry was indeed showing
considerable skill in getting up very appetizing dishes, and took pride
in changing what he called the “menu” so often, that the boys always had
delightful recollections of “that last mess we had yesterday, or it
might be the day before,” which they hoped he would repeat before long.

“Seems like a mighty lonely place right here,” Will had remarked, after
supper was over, and they sat around on deck, Jerry busy with his fish
lines; Bluff stretched on a blanket he had brought out; and Frank
rubbing up his recollection of the events of the last two days, since he
had fallen behind in his writing of the daily log, and meant to catch up
when they lighted the big lamp, going in to sit around the table.

“Well, that’s not a fault, as I can see,” Bluff declared; “now, last
night you complained of too much company around, when that boatload of
toughs from the city rowed past, looking for our hidden houseboat.
Better be by ourselves, even if the wolves do howl, and the panthers
scream.”

“Oh! say, you don’t think for a minute now that there are any of those
fierce creatures around us right now?” Will faltered. “He’s just trying
to see how big a yarn he can work off on me; isn’t he, Frank?”

“Just what he is,” laughed the other; “because I don’t fancy that there
is a wolf or a panther within fifty miles of this place. So make your
mind easy, Will; and if you choose to take a turn up and down the deck
before going to bed, you can do it without dreaming any wild animal
could drop from the branches of that tree above us.”

“Listen to Jerry grunting there,” remarked Will, disdainfully, “just
like he expects me to believe that sort of thing could be a panther!
Don’t forget that I’ve heard a panther before this, and he doesn’t
squeal like a hog caught under the fence.”

“But it wasn’t me at all!” declared Jerry, looking up from working his
line.

“And as sure as anything, it did come from the shore somewhere above!”
Bluff said, as he scrambled to a sitting position.

“Listen, everybody!” remarked Frank, in a quiet voice.

They could plainly hear the swish of bushes giving way before some
advancing body.

“Whatever it is, that light Jerry is using, to fix his bait on properly,
has told of our being here,” Frank went on to say.

“Shall I puff her out, then?” asked Jerry.

“No use now, because the mischief’s done,” Frank continued.

“There goes Bluff inside the cabin,” Will spoke up; “and I just wager
he’s after his gun. Well, I’m glad of it; for Frank might be mistaken
about the panther part of the business.”

“Listen again!” Frank ordered, and every one fell silent.

The rustling among the bushes increased until it seemed to be almost
above them, after which it stopped.

“Ahoy! aboard the boat! Don’t shoot at me; I’m a friend, and in a bad
fix!” came a voice.

The boys looked at each other blankly. Every one of them possessed a
sympathetic heart, and the very thought of a fellow human in trouble
appealed to them.

“Frank, are you going to invite him aboard?” whispered Will.

“Don’t forget what Uncle Felix wrote about having strangers stay on the
houseboat,” Jerry went on to add; not because he felt any fear, but
because of that hidden treasure which he fully believed lay somewhere
aboard.

Frank picked up the lantern, as though speedily making up his mind.

“We can go ashore ourselves, fellows,” he said, “and see what’s wrong.
Bluff, would you mind coming with me; and Will, bring the lantern,
please.”

“Don’t think I’m going to be left out,” cried Jerry, as he let his
baited hook drop into the water, where the current carried it
down-stream, as he wanted.

And so the four chums made their way ashore. This was not hard to do,
since the houseboat was warped close to the bank; and indeed, it only
required a single jump to bring them to firm ground.

The light of the lantern showed them a single figure, and that of an old
man. He did not seem any too robust, and his face was seemingly pinched
with pain, and possibly hunger.

“Who are you, and what brings you here?” asked Frank, hardly knowing
whether he liked the appearance of the other or not, and secretly
resolved that unless it were positively necessary he would not take him
aboard the boat.

“My name is Luther Snow,” said the other, in a trembling voice. “I was
on my way to New Orleans on a packet, when some thief stole my
pocketbook, with every cent in the world I had, and my passage ticket as
well. So the captain put me ashore, and I’ve had hardly a bite to eat
for twenty-four hours. I must get down there soon, or lose all chance of
ever seeing my daughter, who sails for Australia, and I’m in a bad fix,
boys, I tell you.”

Jerry made a bolt back to the boat, and Frank did not need to be told
what he was going for. A man half starved, while they had plenty to eat
in the larder, went against the grain of the generous boy.

“Wait a minute, Jerry!” called out Frank; “we’ll build a fire ashore,
and cook something for him right here;” and turning to the man he
continued in a lower tone, as though he thought some sort of explanation
might be necessary: “you see, we don’t happen to own this houseboat; and
one of the rules set down for us by the gentleman who does, was that,
under no circumstances, unless it seemed absolutely necessary to save a
life, were we to keep a stranger aboard over-night. But we can make you
fairly comfortable here, and give you some breakfast in the morning;
perhaps chip in, and help you out some in the money line. So just sit
down, while we get busy, and make the fire first.”

That was as generous a proposition as could possibly be expected from
any traveler along the great river highway; and the man should have felt
pleased when he heard what Frank said; but the sharp eyes of the boys,
watching his face, caught a plain flash of disappointment there, as
though he had fully anticipated being invited to at least spend the
night aboard.

Frank was the last fellow to wish to think ill of anybody, and so he
said nothing about what he might suspect; only he resolved to carry out
the scheme he had in mind, and make the unfortunate traveler
comfortable—but on shore.




CHAPTER XI—A THREATENED COLLISION


It was a good deal to expect a boy to cook two suppers on the same
evening; but Jerry in the warmth of his heart seemed only too glad to be
of assistance to a poor man in trouble.

Luther Snow seemed to be a rather quiet sort of man. He seldom spoke
unless he was addressed; and it was only through persistent questioning
that they finally learned something of his story.

He declared that he had no relatives in the world save the married
daughter, now in New Orleans; and that as she expected to make her home
at the other side of the world, he had determined to sell all he had,
and spend some little time with her before she sailed.

“And now it looks as if I’d never be able to reach there in time,” he
mournfully remarked, in conclusion; “because I haven’t a single dollar
in the world; and even if I wrote to her, she’s not able to send me the
money. So I’ll just have to go back to my trade, and earn enough day by
day; if I can find work.”

“What might be your trade?” asked Frank, as though just barely
interested.

“Why, I’m a carpenter, you see,” the old man replied, quickly enough;
but while of course Frank did not say a word as though he doubted the
truth of this assertion, he secretly made up his mind that at least the
other could not have been doing much work of recent years; for he
noticed that his hands were entirely free from signs of manual labor,
since they appeared to be as soft as those of a lady, though the nails
were ill enough kept.

Frank kept much of this to himself. He studied the old man, however, and
wondered if after all he could be as hungry as he said; for he certainly
did have a very poor appetite for a half-starved person, since he made
way with only a small portion of the food Jerry got together.

They had several extra blankets aboard, the property of Uncle Felix. Two
of these Frank fetched ashore, and laid with his own hands, making as
comfortable a bed as anybody might want.

“Nothing will come around, as long as the fire burns; and here’s plenty
of wood to keep it going, if you happen to wake up any time in the
night. Besides, we keep watch aboard the boat, and any uninvited guest
is apt to be met with a shot. I hope you don’t walk in your sleep, Mr.
Snow?”

Frank said this for a purpose. The old man started, and looked at him
queerly; after which he hastened to say:

“I never knew of myself doing such a thing in my life. But please don’t
bother about me more than you can help. You see, I’m used to being
alone; and I’ve done a fair amount of camping in my day, too.”

Frank had already guessed that from certain little signs. For instance,
the other had arranged his blankets so that the night wind would strike
his feet rather than his head; and also that the fire would be some
little distance from his lower extremities; for an experienced
camper-out, especially when it is cold, will make sure to keep his feet
warm, first of all.

And so, finally, they left him there, rolled up snugly in his blankets.

The night passed quietly enough. With the cabin door fast secured, of
course the boys knew that no one could find entrance; and though they
may have aroused once or twice all around through the night, no one
heard a suspicious sound.

At dawn the boys were early in the river. Frank, however, did not think
he cared to take his customary dip; and Jerry winked an eye at him, as
much as to say he understood why. Truth to tell, Frank was determined
not to leave any opening for the stranger to slip aboard, if he wanted
to do so. Then again, he felt ashamed of suspecting Luther Snow, who
seemed loath to part with his new-found friends.

They gave him a good breakfast, and Frank took up a collection of
several dollars from the boys, which sum he pressed into the hand of the
old man as they prepared to leave him.

Perhaps there was a tear in Luther Snow’s eye; certainly there was a
wistful look on his face as the houseboat started away from the shore,
leaving him waving his hand after them from the bank.

“That money ought to take him part of the way on his journey,” remarked
Jerry, as the intervening trees quite hid their late guest from them.

“And then he can work in some big city,” said Will. “A carpenter gets
good wages every place; and it won’t take him long to save enough to go
on further. Why, in a month he ought to be down to New Orleans, long
before we expect to show up.”

“He certainly did want to go along with us all right, Frank,” Bluff
observed. “Why, every time he looked at our old junk he’d shake his
head, and heave a sigh. Reckon he just thought what a fine snap it’d be
if he could get aboard, and be carried all the way down to the place he
wants to reach, without spending a red cent for grub, or traveling
expenses.”

“And only for what Uncle Felix said in his letter,” spoke up Jerry, “I’d
voted to let the old fellow go along with us. But we did him some good,
anyway. That cash ought to carry him a hundred or two miles along the
river on a boat, deck passage.”

“If he doesn’t have the hard luck to lose that, too,” remarked Frank,
drily. “Some people have a weakness that way, you know, boys.”

There was some touch of mystery in his way of saying this, and the
others looked at him, as though hoping Frank would “open up and
explain,” as Bluff put it; but he changed the subject, and left them
wondering.

“Don’t suppose there’s a chance in a hundred that we’ll ever hear
anything from Luther Snow again?” Will observed, later on. “He said he
would write to us at New Orleans, and you gave him your uncle’s address,
which he jotted down in his little notebook,” Frank remarked; but he
somehow failed to mention the fact that he had observed with surprise
how strange it was to see a man who followed the trade of carpenter
happen to possess such a delicate little volume in his pocket, when one
would rather expect to see a well-thumbed five-cent book under the
circumstances.

The day became rather sultry, and Frank remarked, after they had eaten a
little cold lunch, that he would not be much surprised if they ran into
a storm before a great while.

“Just what I was thinking,” Will added. “Do you know, I’m getting to be
quite an old salt by now, and can just feel the weather in my bones. And
for some time I’ve had an aching toe; that means rain, mark that,
fellows.”

“I saw you taking a snapshot of our friend, Luther, on the sly this
morning,” remarked Frank. “When you develop that, print me a copy, Will.
You know I always like to study faces, and somehow his seemed to me to
be a particularly strong one.”

“All the same he hasn’t made a success of his life, if what he told us
is true,” Jerry put in, “for it was a hard luck story all through.”
“Frank’s seen something he wants to examine closer,” Bluff suggested
later on; “for he dived into the cabin, in a hurry; and here he comes
out again with the field glasses.”

They all watched Frank adjust the binoculars to his range of vision, and
sweep a half circuit around the river, finally focussing upon some
object up-stream that must have caught his attention.

“I thought so,” he remarked presently; “here, take a look, Bluff, and
say what you see.”

The other eagerly seized upon the glasses and had hardly leveled them
than he uttered an exclamation.

“You’re right, Frank, it’s that _Lounger_, as sure as shooting!” he
cried.

“Let me see!” exclaimed Jerry, eagerly.

“She’s coming down the river like a bird, with her engine working
again,” Bluff went on to say; “so they must have got the broken part
mended, or a new piece sent on from St. Paul.”

“I’m afraid our troubles are going to begin again,” sighed Will; “and I
was just saying this very morning what a jolly good and restful time we
were having.”

“Say, they’re whooping it up at a great rate, all right!” ejaculated
Jerry, when he had a chance to look; “either he’s in a big hurry, or
else he wants to carry out some scheme to hurt us, if he can—perhaps run
us down!”

“Let him try that, if he dares!” growled Bluff, staring hard at the now
rapidly approaching power houseboat, bearing down upon them under the
combined influence of a gasolene engine and the current.

“Would he try that sort of risky business, Frank, do you think?” asked
Will. “It seems to me he’d take big chances of getting his own boat
injured.”

“Oh! perhaps some glass would be shivered,” Bluff took it upon himself
to say, “but you see the _Lounger_ is so much heavier than our boat,
and, coming down so fast, she’d be apt to knock a hole in us, if that
Ossie managed right. And as sure as anything, Frank, they keep on
straight for us, notice.”

“I’m watching,” said Frank, who gripped the big sweep, a determined look
on his face; while Bluff dodged into the cabin again, bringing out his
“machine-gun,” which he seemed to think must be a cure-all for every ill
that threatened.

“Don’t shoot, Bluff!” said Frank, “no matter what happens.”

“Oh! I don’t mean to,” replied the other; though he made very
extravagant gestures, so as to show those on the other boat that he was
“ready for business at the old stand,” as he expressed it.

The boys stood there, watching with increasing uneasiness; for just as
Bluff had asserted, the big power-boat was swooping straight down for
them. On board several youths seemed to be running this way and that,
calling out all sorts of excited things, just as though they had lost
control; though Oswald himself could be seen in the pilothouse, swinging
the wheel back and forth in an uncertain way, as though hardly knowing
whether to take the chances of a collision or not.

Another sixty seconds, and nothing could save the two heavy craft from
coming together with crashing force, perhaps with serious consequences.
Frank watched, and made ready to swing the big sweep at the slightest
indication of a change of direction on the part of the other houseboat,
that would afford a loophole of escape from the dire consequences of
Oswald Fredericks’ folly.




CHAPTER XII—A RED GLOW IN THE SKY


Crash!

Only for a sudden change of heart on the part of Oswald Fredericks the
coming together of the two boats would have been of a much more serious
character. At the last moment, almost, he had apparently changed his
mind, and tried to whirl the wheel rapidly in one direction. Frank,
seeing that the other was now endeavoring to avoid a collision, tried to
assist by every means in his power.

And the others, springing to his help, caused the sweep to plough the
water at the stern in such a manner that the _Pot Luck_ must have
altered her course considerably.

The other boat came with a slanting blow. As the young fellow who ran
the engine had had the good sense to shut off power previous to their
coming together, there was no great amount of damage done. One window
aboard the _Pot Luck_ and several on the _Lounger_ went to pieces, the
jingle of broken glass adding to the confusion.

“Whoop!” yelled Jerry, as he came near falling overboard, when the boat
staggered from the force of the slanting blow.

“Are we sinking?” cried Will, who was flat on his back, his legs
threshing the air in a helpless fashion.

Frank hung to the sweep; while Bluff, having his gun to look after, and
anticipating something of a knock, had settled upon the deck beforehand,
like a wise boy, so that he saved himself a nasty tumble.

“Why didn’t you get out of the way?” called Oswald, from the pilothouse
of the other boat, now floating alongside. “Didn’t you see the machinery
had jammed, and we couldn’t control her?”

Frank knew that this was entirely false, for he had seen them head in
from a point further out on the river, as if deliberately meaning to
strike the _Pot Luck_.

He hurried over to the corner that had been struck, and took as good an
observation as was possible, just then. No particular damage seemed to
have been done, the heavy and sound timbers of the smaller boat serving
to save her. Outside of that one broken window, which could be easily
repaired, and perhaps a couple of dishes knocked to the floor inside the
cabin, there were no bad results following this mean trick of the enemy.

Frank did not even take the trouble to make a reply; but Bluff could not
keep still under such aggravating circumstances.

“That was a mean trick, Ossie Fredericks!” he called out, shaking his
fist toward the boy he addressed, and who was leaning from the
pilothouse of the _Lounger_, holding a handkerchief to his nose, as
though he might have struck it violently against some object when the
shock came. “You did that on purpose; needn’t try to say you didn’t! I
wish your boat had a big hole punched in her bow; because it’d just
serve you right. Now keep away, or I’ll be so mad there’s no telling
what’ll happen.”

“Oh! just hold your horses, Masters!” called the other; “don’t you see
we’re doing our best to draw away from you? Hi! start up the engine
again, Terry Crogan. These fellows are beginning to threaten me with
guns!”

Presently the sound of the gas engine belonging to the _Lounger_,
starting to send out sharp, explosive sounds, told that the big youth
who had been hired in St. Paul to run the machinery and do the hard work
of the cruise was attending to business. Then the power-boat started
away, and headed out toward the middle of the river once more.

A row of faces over the rail told that Oswald’s other chums, Duke
Fletcher, Raymond Ellis, and the third fellow from St. Paul, whom Bluff
and Frank had met at the time the trap was set for them in the cabin of
the boat, were watching to see whether the _Pot Luck_ showed any signs
of foundering.

But although, no doubt, they hoped for the worst, nothing of the kind
was likely to occur, since small damage had been done. Jerry sounded the
well, and reported little bilge water in the hold. A trap on the forward
deck allowed of anyone going below, where, in case of necessity, certain
articles might be stowed; and Bluff took it upon himself to drop into
the hold, carrying Frank’s electric torch. He found no evidence of
damage, so that even Will felt reassured on that score.

Of course the four chums were highly indignant concerning the boldness
and recklessness of their rivals in seeking to do them such an injury,
at the risk of sharing the destruction.

“If they had struck us, with their engine going full tilt!” declared
Jerry; “and before Ossie began to get cold feet, and edge away, why, ten
to one, both boats by this time would be either sunk, or leaking like
sieves, and bound to go under.”

“Then we’d have had to throw a few things, like our guns, into the
dinghy, and jump overboard ourselves,” remarked Bluff.

“Yes,” agreed Will, “that’s the way at a fire, they say; throw the
pictures out of the window, and carry a mattress carefully downstairs.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want the guns to get soaked, or lost; would we?”
demanded the proud owner of the new-fangled six-shot firearm; “wouldn’t
matter so much with us, because we could swim; and if we saved our
clothes we’d have a dry outfit to put on later. But I wonder what next
that Ossie Fredericks will try? Isn’t he the limit, though, Frank?”

“Well, I don’t exactly know,” replied the other. “I’ve tried to study
that fellow for a whole year. Sometimes I think he’s got a halfway
streak of decency in him, and that it’s only because he keeps such bad
company that he chokes it right along.”

“Huh! mighty funny way of showing decency,” grunted Jerry; “to try and
smash our boat, when we didn’t bother them any. But I know that Ellis
lad is a bad egg, and wouldn’t be surprised if Fletcher’s just as tough
a nut. They know Ossie’s got a fistful of money, always, and they just
hang around, telling him what a great boy he is, and how mean Frank
Langdon talks about him. Oh! rats! Don’t I know that crowd, though?”

Will was once more in the sulks, lamenting the fact that he hadn’t
thought to run into the cabin, and bring out his rapid-action camera, so
that he might have taken a snapshot of the power-boat heading straight
for the _Pot Luck_.

“It would have been all the evidence we needed in court, if ever we sued
to collect damages,” he declared, sadly; “and to think how I so seldom
see these chances till it’s all over but the shouting.”

The other boat was rapidly leaving them, and every one of the four chums
hoped they might never see the _Lounger_ again—during that cruise, at
least. It seemed that they must meet with some sort of trouble every
time the two boats came close together, all through the bad tempers and
ugly dispositions of those on board the _Lounger_.

An hour later, and they could barely make her out miles away; and only
with the aid of the glasses could they recognize the craft. So they
determined to put Ossie Fredericks and his cronies out of their minds,
for the time being at least. There were other things much more pleasant
demanding their constant attention on every hand; boats that passed, or
which they overtook, moored to the bank; change of scenery that gave
them more or less pleasure, and with Bluff and Jerry consulting as to
what the evening meal should consist of.

“I move we camp ashore to-night, if there seems to be a decent chance,”
proposed Bluff, as they began to look for a good spot to tie up to, with
the sun hanging low in a bed of yellow clouds that Frank did not fancy
any too much.

“We might have a camp fire, and do our cooking there,” he said in reply;
“but if you cast your eyes over yonder, you’ll see why we ought to sleep
aboard to-night.”

“It does look as if we’d get something before morning,” Jerry admitted.

“Think my foot don’t know?” remarked Will, with a grin and a nod.

When they had found a good place to fasten the cable to a tree alongside
the bank, this programme was carried out. Frank soon learned they were
close to what appeared to be a road that followed the river; but it
seemed to be rather what Will called a “sequestered” spot, so he thought
they could take chances.

He showed his chums once more how a good cooking fire was built, and,
after supper was done, Bluff was allowed to build a large camp fire,
around which they meant to sit for several hours, until their eyes
warned them that it was time to go aboard and crawl into the bunks.

“Seeing that fire we made for Luther Snow just put me in the notion of
having one for ourselves,” Bluff remarked, as he toasted his shins there
beside the blaze he had created, with the aid of several logs, found
near the spot.

“Wonder what’s become of the old fellow; and if we’ll ever see him
again?” Will said, in a meditative manner.

Frank did not choose to tell anything he thought, but listened with an
amused smile as his comrades discussed the chances the man had of making
his intended destination before his only daughter sailed for the other
side of the world.

The hour began to grow late, and once or twice Will started to yawn.
Frank was just about to propose that they go aboard, after putting out
the camp fire, as he had learned to always do on breaking camp, when
Jerry called his attention to a strange ruddy hue in the sky.

“Can that be the storm coming?” asked Will, as they all gazed.

“If it is, she’s going to be a scorcher!” remarked Jerry.

“You forget that the storm is over to the southwest, boys, and this red
light lies in the east, or southeast rather. I think it must be a house
afire,” Frank at that moment remarked.

The idea of a poor family being burned out appealed to the boys
strongly; and when Bluff boldly proposed that they lock the door of the
cabin securely, and see if they could arrive on the scene in time to be
of any assistance, somehow even timid Will and conservative Frank fell
in with the idea at once.

The result of the vote being unanimous in favor of going, they hastened
to shut the windows, and fasten the padlock on the door. Bluff insisted
on carrying his precious gun, though admitting that it must look odd to
see a boy hurrying to help a family that was being burned out, and
carrying a shotgun along.

“But you never can tell what will happen,” said Bluff, stoutly; and so
Frank, remembering that other occasion only too well when the presence
of that same gun had prevented a fierce hammering from Fredericks and
his crowd, wisely held his peace.




CHAPTER XIII—AFTER THE STORM


“Listen! is that somebody shouting?” cried Frank, after they had run
along the road in a southerly direction for half a mile.

“Sounds like it to me,” ventured Will, between pants for breath.

“Now, on my part,” declared Bluff, “I thought it must be the screech of
a locomotive; because, you know, there’s a railroad line on both sides
of the river right along up here.”

“But there it is again,” Frank insisted; “and you can make out yelling
now.”

“Yes, and it comes out of there, away back from the river. See here,
Frank,” observed Jerry, “we just can’t plunge into the woods, and make
for that fire; can we?”

“Now, my opinion is, there might be some other cross-road below here,
and the fire is on that,” said Frank; “we’ll go a piece further, anyhow,
and find out.”

The others were quite willing to do anything Frank proposed, and so they
again started to run at quite a good pace.

It turned out just as he said; for about half a mile further down they
suddenly came on a road that left the river highway, and turned abruptly
into the hills. Besides, they could now see the fire itself, which, as
usual, did not seem to be so very far away; though Frank knew how
deceptive distances were apt to prove under such conditions.

Turning into this smaller road, they kept on running. Now and then Frank
would drop into a walk, for he knew that Will must be tiring, though the
other would never have admitted the fact if he dropped in his tracks
with fatigue.

“Further than we thought, fellows!” gasped Bluff, who had to carry a
heavy gun, and by now he almost wished he had left it on the boat.

“But now we’ve come this far we’d better keep on; eh, Frank?” suggested
Jerry.

On that score the chums seemed to be agreed. Like all boys, they
disliked very much to give up anything they had started to accomplish.
All that hard running would go for nothing; and they were naturally
curious to learn what sort of a fire it could be.

“A barn, I reckon,” Jerry had said.

“Perhaps it’s only a chicken coop,” Will had in his turn mentioned.

“Now, I’d think it more likely a pig pen,” observed the weary Bluff, as
he changed his gun from one hand to the other for the twentieth time,
refusing to let Frank relieve him of it.

“Jerry is right, according to my way of thinking,” Frank said. “The
chances are that’s what it is. Perhaps it looked at one time as if the
fire would jump to the farmer’s barn, too, and that was what all that
shouting meant.”

They finally drew closer to the scene, though Frank feared they had gone
twice as far as seemed wise, under the circumstances.

It was fully an hour after they had left the houseboat before they
reached the place; and then it was to find the fire about out; with a
dozen men, and as many women and children, gathered in clusters, talking
it all over with the man who had lost his barns, and what new crop of
hay he had just been putting in them, together with several cows that
could not be rescued in time.

The boys hung around for a little while talking with some of the farm
hands. Frank asked a few questions about various things, and even found
that he could secure a small amount of information concerning the river
below that point, since some of these young fellows had lived near it
all their lives, and even taken boats of produce to Rock Island below.

An hour later, and Frank proposed that they start back to the boat.
While the boys were engaged in listening to all that was being said
concerning the fire, the sky had clouded over, and it was now quite
dark. Indeed, the growl of thunder could be heard down the river, and
some of the farmers were even then hurrying off.

One fellow, who happened to live not a great way from the location of
the houseboat, as described by Frank, said he would keep company with
the boys, in whose trip down the big water he seemed to be deeply
interested. And while they thought little of that fact at the time, it
afterwards turned out worth a great deal to them.

Louder came that noise from behind them, the storm having swung across
the river apparently, so that it was now heading almost from the south
direct. Will doubtless wished deep down in his heart that he was snug
inside the cabin of the houseboat about that time, when the gale would
have small terrors for any of them. But he did not say a word along
those lines, only ran at the heels of the others, doing the very best he
could.

“She’s going to catch us, boys!” remarked the young farmer, who had
given them his name as Seth Groggins.

“Could we find any sort of shelter?” asked Bluff—and then, as if fearing
that his motive might be misconstrued, he hastened to add: “not that I
care a cent whether I get wet or not; but I’d hate to have my gun
soaked. Steel rusts so easy, you know.”

“Might get under a big tree that lies a little way ahead,” remarked
Seth; “only I’ve heard it isn’t the best thing to do in a thunderstorm.”

“No, I’d rather stand many duckings than take chances that way,” Frank
declared, positively; for he had known of fatal cases following the
action of men in a harvest field seeking shelter under a tree during an
electrical storm.

“Well, here she is; but as you say so, we’ll give her the go-by,” the
farmer called out over his shoulder, as he ran on past the big tree,
standing close to the road. “If we could only make the old lime kiln I
reckons as how the lot of us’d be able to find some sorter shelter thar.
It’s jest a leeetle way further on, boys. Hit it up agin; kin ye?”

Even Will seemed to take another brace, for the din of the storm behind
was surely enough to make any fellow try his level best to get out of
its reach. What with the roar of the wind, the sound of falling trees,
the terrible crash of the thunder accompanying each vivid flash of
lightning, and the roar of the deluge of rain that followed, no one need
be ashamed for wanting to find a place of refuge.

The rain began to come, and the boys would soon have been drenched to
the skin only, as luck would have it, they reached the deserted lime
kiln just then, and were able to hastily crawl under a low shed.

Although this threatened to carry away bodily with the fierce gusts of
wind, approaching the force of a tornado at times, it seemed to have
been sturdily built in the first place; and was also somewhat sheltered
by the kiln, so that it managed to withstand the gale.

And thankful that they had found even so poor a shelter, the boys
crouched there, waiting for the fury of the storm to subside, when they
might go on their way to the moored houseboat, not more than half a mile
off, Frank believed.

“Wow! listen to that; would you?” cried Bluff, as a crash followed a
blinding flash of lightning, although the rain had now stopped.

“That hit something, sure!” quavered Will, who had no fancy for such a
terrible display of electrical force.

“Say, I wouldn’t be surprised if that big tree got it thet ’ere time!”
declared the farmer. “Kim right from thet ways; an’ she lies thar. An’,
by hokey, I thort I ketched a crash o’ branches as the ole lightnin’
stripped her bare, like it does, sometimes.”

Frank was of the same opinion; and felt deeply grateful in his heart
that they had been wise enough to give that shelter the go-by when it
offered. If it was really the big tree that had been struck, what would
have been their fate had they foolishly taken refuge under its
wide-spreading limbs?

As Frank had truly said: far better a wet jacket any time, than to take
chances under a tree that seems to especially invite the attention of
the lightning, either by its being alone in a field, or standing higher
than its fellows.

A short time later, and they once more started along the flooded road.
All of them were wet, but made light of it, in view of the fact that
they had managed to get off so lightly. And this was the first occasion
Frank found for feeling glad the young Illinois farmer had accompanied
them; since otherwise they would not have known about the shed at the
old lime kiln.

The storm had gone raging up the river, and far in the distance they
could still hear the dull roar of the thunder peals, and see the flash
of each successive bolt of lightning, as it either passed from one cloud
to another, or else sought the earth in a zigzag downward plunge that
was most terrifying.

“I guess we ought to call ourselves lucky for once,” Jerry was saying,
as they left the river road, and headed through the patch of timber,
just beyond which all of them knew the boat had been left, securely
fastened.

The young farmer kept along with them. He had told Frank that he would
like to see for himself just how they were fixed; and had promised in
the morning to fetch them a supply of fresh eggs, some newly-made
butter, and milk from his Jersey cows.

“An’ ev’ry night you jest tie up alongside the bank, you say?” he
remarked, as he kept at the side of Jerry, with regard to whom he seemed
to have taken an especial fancy, for some reason or other.

“Why, yes, that’s the easiest way of doing with a houseboat, which,
after all, is pretty much the same as one of your shantyboats, used to
carry potatoes and truck down to market,” Frank had taken it upon
himself to answer.

“Now, here’s just where we had our camp fire,” Bluff, who was in
advance, remarked. “It got squdged by that downpour of rain, all right,
I should say. And here you see, we tied the—Frank, Frank, _she’s gone!_”
he suddenly ended with an excited yell, as he saw the well-known spot
where the _Pot Luck_ had been moored, vacant, and not the first sign of
their floating home.

Will clung to Frank in the first shock of his dismay; while Jerry echoed
the loud cries of the first discoverer of this new calamity that seemed
to have overtaken them.




CHAPTER XIV—THE RUNAWAY HOUSEBOAT


They all stared as if they could hardly believe their eyes. The moon had
set about the time the storm started; but since the sky was already
clearing, the stars gave a certain amount of light. And especially on
the river it was possible to see for some distance.

Frank was almost as dumbfounded as his chums when this alarming fact
burst upon them. Without the houseboat, their cruise down the
Mississippi must come to an end.

“They must have been hiding somewhere near by,” lamented Will, “and saw
the whole bunch of us scooting down the road; so that the chance they
just wanted came along.”

“Say, Frank, he thinks it must have been Ossie Fredericks!” exclaimed
Jerry; “but I say it was that Marcus Stackpole. He wanted to get that
treasure Uncle Felix hid away on board so neat that even I never could
find it. But Marcus, he’s bound to get it, even if he has to take the
old boat, and tear her to flinders. Oh! what a bunch of gumps we were to
leave her that way, to run to a fire.”

The countryman was listening to all they said, and trying to grasp the
situation. Frank saw him step over to the tree to which they had
fastened the cable of the boat so securely, as they thought.

“This whar you tied her up, boys?” asked the young farmer.

“To that tree, yes,” Frank replied. “What have you found—a piece of the
rope left there?”

“Jest what I hev,” came the reply, as the other took out a match, and
prepared to strike it.

“Sliced it off as neat as you please; didn’t they?” demanded Bluff,
angrily.

“Wall, not as I kin see,” replied the farmer, bending closer to look, as
the match flamed up. “This hyar rope, she’s gone and busted clear off!”

“No knife used, then, you mean?” asked Frank, jumping at conclusions.

“Nixy a knife,” came the answer, in a positive tone.

“Then that settles it,” Frank went on, turning to his comrades. “Our
cable turned out a bad one, boys; and in the storm, when the wind struck
the side of the cabin, the rope snapped off short!”

“Wow! what do you think of that, now?” cried Jerry.

“Then it wasn’t Ossie and his crowd; nor yet Marcus Stackpole, that did
the little job for us?” observed Bluff, bottling some of his wrath for
another occasion.

“We can lay it all to the storm,” Frank went on to say, as he too
examined the frayed end of the piece of cable still hanging from the
trunk of the tree; and which it was plain to be seen had never been
severed by a sharp instrument.

“But that’s just about as bad,” Will plaintively struck up just then.
“Perhaps our fine boat has been knocked to pieces before now; or even if
she hasn’t, then she must be booming along in the middle of the river,
turning around and around as she floats. Why, Frank, this happened half
an hour ago, and by now where do you think the _Pot Luck_ can be?”

“If she hasn’t been snagged and sunk in the storm,” replied Frank, “or
upset by the hurricane wind, why, by now she may be floating peacefully
along, all by herself, say about two miles, perhaps three, below here.”

“Think of that! And I was expecting to sleep aboard to-night!” Will
exclaimed.

“I hope you may yet, if there’s any way by which we can overtake a
runaway houseboat,” Frank said, as he tried to think.

Was there any means of obtaining a team of horses, and by following the
country road, getting ahead of the houseboat that had gone adrift in the
storm? The countryman ought to know, for he had been born and raised in
that section of the State, and must be familiar with the lay of the
land.

So Frank turned to Seth Groggins.

“You understand what has happened to us; don’t you, Seth?” he asked.

“Reckon I does; the pesky boat’s gone an’ played you all a mean trick.”

“Now, perhaps you might help us overtake our boat, Seth.”

“You jest tell me how, then, an’ see me jump,” answered the farmer,
quickly, and with a friendly ring in his voice that pleased Frank very
much.

“Have you got any fast horses at your place?” he asked next.

“That’s what I hev, as good a pair as kin be found ‘raound these hyar
parts. An’ I sees wot you mean to try, Frank. Think it kin be did?”

“How far does this road follow the river?” Frank asked.

“Oh! many a mile,” came the answer. “She runs alongside the Mississippi
for mebbe four miles, then takes a straightaway course two miles ‘cross
a neck o’ land, savin’ somethin’ like five miles, and strikes the
winding water agin beyond.”

“Just let me figure on that,” Frank went on, calmly, for he knew nothing
could be gained by getting excited like Bluff and the others seemed to
be. “Six miles from here by the road, and then we strike the river
again. Now, how far do you suppose that boat would have to drift with
the current before it struck that same point?”

“They do say that five miles kin be saved by cuttin’ acrost that neck. I
reckon as haow it’d be all o’ three anyway,” the farmer declared,
positively.

“We ought to be able to go twice as fast as the boat, I should think,”
Frank continued, “and counting the saving, I believe we would have
plenty of time to get to your place and be off, if you agreed. We’re
willing to pay you five dollars for your trouble.”

“Five dollars nothing!” exclaimed the young farmer. “What d’ye think I
am, when, if it hadn’t been for you, like’s not I’d been crazy enough to
hev camped, under thet same big tree, and jest think whar I’d be naow?
Done it afore, more’n a few times. Reckon that ere lightnin’ was a
layin’ for me, an’ she’d got me to-night sure. But come along, boys; my
place ain’t far off.”

He led the way to the road, and up it at a fast run; the four chums
following after him as best they could.

Inside of ten minutes they arrived at a wayside farmhouse; and without
waiting to answer the calls of the old lady on the porch, who wanted to
know all about the fire, country fashion, Seth led his new friends
straight out to a big stable and barn.

The way that expert young countryman got out his horses, and hitched
them to a light road wagon, made Frank ready to give him the palm for
fast work. Why, in almost no time the ends of the lines were tossed over
the seat.

“Jump in, boys, and we’ll be off, jest as soon as I shut the stable
doors. You see, I never leave ’em open. Robbins lost his hull outfit one
night, and I ain’t a-goin’ to take any chances with mine.”

Another minute, and they were making for the open gates, which Seth had
seen to at the time they entered his grounds. The last the boys saw of
the old lady she was standing there, where the light of a lamp issued
from an open door, and looking after her boy, as though she wondered if
he had taken leave of his senses.

“Tell her all erbout it, arter I gets back to hum,” Seth very sensibly
remarked, as he used the whip, to send his horses galloping down the
river road. “She allers arsks so many questions, you see, I jest natchly
couldn’t hold up to satisfy her right now, when minutes are a-goin’ to
count. Giddup, Bob! Hi! thar, Fanny, show us what you kin do!”

Both horses were already making great speed. Frank and Will sat beside
the driver on the seat, while the others found as comfortable places as
they could on the bottom of the light wagon.

The road was not everything that could be wished for, and in
consequence, when they came to a little depression, or a
“thank-you-mum,” which was intended to deflect running water, and save a
washout, both Jerry and Bluff found it difficult to keep anything like
an upright position. The latter especially, being still burdened with
his gun, could only use one hand with which to hold on to the side of
the wagon; and as a consequence he was bounding all over the bed of the
vehicle, until Frank, noticing what hard lines had fallen to poor Bluff,
took the gun away, which allowed him to have the use of both hands.

Mile after mile they put behind them in this fashion.

“Oh! I hope we will make it, Frank,” Will would say every little while;
and at such times the other thought it his duty to cheer the doubting
chum up by declaring that he felt sure they would, as they were making
such splendid time.

“But even if we do see the poor old Noah’s Ark away out in the middle of
the river, floating along, however in the wide world can we get to her?”
Will asked.

“No use crossing a bridge till we come to it,” Frank told him. “When we
understand the situation we’ll have some plan ready to meet it. Here’s
where we leave the river; isn’t it, Seth?” as the driver urged his team
over a little plank bridge at a point where the road turned abruptly to
the left.

“Yep, that’s the ticket,” replied the other. “Two mile now, and then we
strike her agin. Go ’lang thar, Fanny; gaddup, Bob, ye lazybones!”

But this was only “talk,” as Bluff expressed it, for both horses were
doing the best they knew how, and making splendid time. After a while,
Frank knew from the signs that they must once more be approaching the
river. He could hardly still his own excited heart, so very much
depended on the events of the next half hour.

Finally they burst into view of the swiftly flowing Mississippi again.
Out over its broad bosom every eye went, seeking for some sign of the
floating houseboat.

“Doan’t see nuthin’ o’ her, mister!” announced Seth, in a disappointed
tone; “but then, I reckons as haow she ain’t hed time yet to float this
far. Inside harf a hour we kin spect to see the runaway, if it stays as
light as it is naow.”

Frank had not been looking in the same quarter as the others, who seemed
to have taken it for granted that the houseboat, when she appeared,
would be found far out on the flood.

He cast his eye closer to the shore that stretched away toward the
north, until it became dim and uncertain in the starlight; for the
heavens were now clear from horizon to horizon, and the air wonderfully
pure after the thunder squall of the earlier evening.

“I think I see her coming up yonder, boys!” said Frank, as he pointed a
trembling finger, to assist his chums locate the dark moving blur that
had just caught his eye a little distance above the spot where they sat
in the wagon.




CHAPTER XV—ON BOARD THE POT LUCK AGAIN


“Frank, you’re right!” exclaimed the delighted Will.

“It’s the _Pot Luck_, as sure as you’re born!” cried Bluff.

“But she’ll just sail past us, fellows, and give us the merry ha! ha!
How are we going to coax her to come in here?” Jerry asked, anxiously.

Frank was already pulling off his shoes, and making ready as if to take
a swim.

“Leave that to me, boys,” he said, hastily, but with something in his
voice that told his chums he would not be denied. “I’ll get aboard
without much trouble. Here, take my clothes, and follow along the road
in the wagon. Once on deck I’ll open the cabin with the key I’ll hold
between my teeth when in the water. Then you can see the lantern I’ll
light.”

“Will you throw the anchor over, Frank?” asked Bluff, wishing it had
fallen to him to do this little affair; for Bluff was always willing to
undertake any sort of hazardous task, either for fun or to accommodate a
chum.

“I hope to work the big sweep first, and see if I can get her in to the
shore alone,” came the reply, as Frank made ready to plunge into the
rushing river at the proper moment.

“And if you can’t manage it, you’ll heave the anchor over, and come for
us in the little skiff?” asked Will.

“Sure I will, after I get some dry clothes on; because by that time I’ll
be feeling pretty cold. Here goes, fellows!” and Frank stepped into the
dark waters of the Mississippi as unconcernedly as though he might be
just meaning to enjoy a bath.

“Good luck!” shouted out Bluff; while the others added their blessing in
various ways, each according to his own mind.

The floating houseboat was now nearby, and coming on at a fair speed,
though, of course, the current was not nearly so swift close to the
shore as further out toward the middle of the stream.

Eagerly the three chums and Seth watched to see if they could tell when
the bold swimmer reached the drifting craft. They could not exactly make
him out; but in the starlight there was some sort of disturbance on the
water, which they believed must mark his progress.

Then the runaway houseboat passed them, about sixty or eighty feet away;
and Will’s heart seemed almost in his throat with suspense as he
strained his eyes to catch the welcome sight of Frank clambering aboard
once more, to assume command.

“Hoop-la! there he goes!” suddenly shouted Bluff, whose vision proved
the keenest after all.

Plainly now they all saw something white climbing up the side of the
houseboat, and rolling over on the deck. Immediately afterward the big
sweep was seen to begin to swing, and move through the water.

“Frank’s doing it!” cried the delighted Will, who had almost perfect
confidence in the ability of Frank Langdon to accomplish any task that
human ingenuity could perform.

“Into the wagon again, boys, and let’s follow him!” called Jerry,
turning to make a rush toward the nearby road; and the others were at
his heels, stumbling along “any old way,” as Bluff said, in order to
reach the waiting horses as soon as possible.

Here and there the road came so close to the bank that they could look
out; and with so many eager eyes on the alert it was not long before the
floating houseboat was discovered again.

“She’s some closer, boys, as sure as anything; isn’t that so,
Bluff—Jerry?” demanded Will.

“Frank’s doing it, all right,” answered the latter; “but it must be an
awful job, handling that big sweep all by himself. And I wouldn’t be a
bit surprised if he gave it up soon.”

“Yes,” added Bluff, “it’d be a heap sight easier just to kick the anchor
overboard and come to bring us off in the skiff, one at a time.”

“Say, you guessed it the fust shot, mister,” said the farmer just then;
and all of them heard a big splash out on the river.

“She’s stopped, fellows!” shrieked Will. “Isn’t Frank the dandy one
though for getting there. Now, give him a little time to hunt up some
more clothes, and he’ll be after us.”

Will was as delighted over the changed aspect of things as a little boy
with his first pair of long trousers, Bluff told him. But, indeed, all
of them were pleased, even more than they would admit, because of the
improved prospect before them.

The minutes dragged along. They finally saw a movement aboard the
houseboat, and then the skiff, which had been hauled out on deck and
secured for the night before they took that wild run in the direction of
the fire, was dropped overboard.

“That’s good!” said Will, when they understood this fact; “because, you
see, I was just a little bothered about that skiff. If it had been blown
overboard and lost in the storm, what would we do then, boys?”

“Just what Frank did,” sang out Jerry, gaily; “swim for the boat; only
in our case we’d have to make bundles of our clothes, and fasten ’em to
the top of our heads to keep ’em dry. But here he comes, rowing after
us.”

Frank soon landed, and his chums insisted in shaking hands with him as
though he had been off on a perilous duty, instead of taking a little
dip, Frank declared.

“Will, you go first,” said Jerry, generously.

“The boat will hold two, besides the rower, so you come along, too,
Jerry; I’ll be back for Bluff; and if Seth will tie his horses and come
aboard, we’ll be glad to have him,” Frank called out.

“Jest what Seth’s goin’ to do, fellers,” remarked the young farmer; who
had taken quite an interest in these wide-awake boys from the North, and
was very glad of any chance to see how they lived aboard the houseboat,
which took his fancy very much.

So the ferry did double duty, and the entire party finally reached the
deck of the anchored _Pot Luck_. Jerry and Will had managed to light the
big lamp and the second lantern while Frank was absent on his second
trip, so that the interior of the cabin looked particularly cheery to
the boys, after their recent experience.

Jerry was also now busily engaged in starting a fire in the little rusty
stove; for as they had managed to get somewhat wet during the storm, it
would do them no harm to experience the genial heat that soon began to
emanate from the stove.

The countryman was soon asking scores of questions, which the boys
answered to the best of their ability. He wanted to know everything, and
was seen many times to shake his head, and sigh heavily; as though he
would have given much for the privilege of an outing after this style.

As the boys felt that they were deeply indebted to Seth, they insisted
on his accepting the five dollars promised by Frank, though he seemed
ashamed to take pay for what little he had done, and protested that it
had given him the greatest pleasure he had known for a long time.

“Buy something for the old lady, then,” said Frank, as he pushed the
bill into Seth’s vest pocket.

“Or some young lady, if there happens to be one, Seth!” said Jerry,
giving the countryman a friendly poke in the ribs.

“Well, if you just make me take it, boys, I reckon I must,” Seth
remarked, seeing that they would not take no for an answer; “and I’m
a-goin’ to write you arter you get back home, to tell you jest what I
_did_ buy with that five dollars, and what she thort of it. ’Cause, you
see, I must hear haow you fetched up, away daown in Orleans; and what
happened to you on the way.”

“And we’ll make sure that you do, Seth,” Frank assured him; for he had
taken quite a fancy to the strapping young farmer, who seemed an honest
fellow, and a hard worker as well. “I’ve got your post office address on
the rural free delivery route, and you’ll hear from me more than once
while we drift down South. But here’s Jerry gone and made a nice pot of
hot coffee; stop long enough to have a cup with us; won’t you, Seth?”

“Doan’t keer if I do,” replied the other, briskly, once more seating
himself. “She smells right fine, I tell you, fellers. I’ll never forgit
this naow. Allers did hev a sneakin’ ijee I’d like to take a trip on a
shantyboat daown to Orleans, an’ I jest envies you the chanct.”

“Well, suppose you fix it up, and take your honeymoon trip that way,
Seth,” proposed Jerry, mischievously; but to the surprise of them all
Seth slapped a big hand on his knee and exploded with a delighted cry.

“Say, that’s the very ijee; funny I never did think o’ it myself,” he
declared. “I’ll talk it over with Mirandy to-morry night, sure. In the
fall we hev potatoes to sell, and I kin load up a boat, and kerry ’em
daown South to sell. That’s a bully ijee, Jerry. I’ll do it, sure as
shootin’!”

They were all sorry to see Seth go over the side, Jerry volunteering to
ferry the young farmer ashore. Short as their acquaintance with him had
been, the honest fellow had seemed to take a great fancy to all the
voyagers; and they knew they would always remember him with pleasure.

And so, after all, no real damage had resulted from the exciting events
of that night. The run to the fire; the terrible storm that overtook
them on their return; the discovery of the absence of the houseboat; and
the wild chase, ending in Frank’s swimming out, and boarding the
drifting craft—all these things would form the subject for many a camp
fire talk in the future.

But the chances were that none of the boys would remember that one crash
of lightning that seemed to dazzle their eyes, and the awful crash of
thunder actually accompanying it, without feeling thankful deep down in
their hearts that Frank had been wise enough to forbid the halt under
the seemingly friendly branches of the big tree; because Seth afterwards
wrote them that it had indeed been shattered to pieces by the electric
bolt, and some of the splintered parts scattered over a distance of
sixty feet.

So a period of peace followed the tumult of fire and gale; and if the
tired boys woke up at all during the balance of that eventful night, it
was only to feel that all was well; for the gurgle of the river against
the end of the staunch houseboat and the sigh of the night wind were the
only sounds that came to their ears.




CHAPTER XVI—THE UNWELCOME PASSENGER


“There’s somebody calling from the shore, and waving his hand!” Will
said, as he poked his head in at the cabin door several days later, and
speaking to Frank, who was writing at the table, as the afternoon
dragged along.

They had made fair progress during this time, and managed to pass the
mouth of the Des Moines river, so that with Keokuk behind them they were
now looking across to the shores of the State of Missouri, which was
encouraging, at least.

Frank hurried outside upon hearing what his comrade said. More than a
few times before this they had been hailed from the bank; but it was
always some fun-loving boy, or a tramp who wanted them to take him
aboard, so that they paid little attention to the calls.

“Looks like there’s something familiar about that fellow!” Bluff was
saying, as the others joined him at the sweep.

“And as sure as you live, he called out Frank’s name just then!”
ejaculated Jerry.

“Tell you what, boys, it’s that Luther Snow again, as plain as the nose
on my face!” cried Bluff.

Frank had discovered this strange fact for himself; and once more the
old feeling of suspicion flashed into his mind. Who was this Luther
Snow; and why should he come upon them again, when they thought he had
gone for good?

The day was well spent, and even then Jerry and Bluff had been trying to
select a landing spot.

“Shall we pull in, Frank?” asked the former; “seems like a good camping
place just this side of that point; and the water’s deep, too, I
reckon.”

“And the old man seems to want to see us mighty bad,” Bluff added.

“He’s limping like he’d been hurt,” added the sympathetic Will.

Frank hardly knew what to do. If the other were really in deep trouble
they would never forgive themselves if they deserted him; because just
here the locality seemed lonely, with not a house in sight.

“All right, set her in to the shore,” he said, making up his mind
without any unnecessary mental discussion; for he believed that four
stout and healthy lads ought to be equal to one decrepit old man, no
matter how cunning he might prove; and after all they did not know a
single thing against the truth of the sad story Luther Snow had told
them.

They had tied up, and were busily engaged in the various tasks that had
been apportioned to each as his daily program, when Luther came along.
Just as Will had remarked, he was limping badly, and looked most
wretched. Frank thought that if this was put on instead of being real,
then old Luther deserved credit for his extraordinary ability as an
actor.

He seemed greatly overjoyed at meeting them again, and between groans
went around shaking hands with each one.

“How do you happen to be here, Mr. Snow, and looking so miserable?”
Frank asked, after the old man had been made comfortable by Will and
Bluff; while Jerry actually hastened his preparations for supper,
because he saw that the wretched carpenter was weak from fasting.

“I went just as far as my money would carry me, and then the captain of
the packet put me off at a little wood landing above,” came the reply.
“Then I started to walk down to the next town, hoping to get some sort
of work there; but I was weak from hunger; and I managed to slip, and
sprain my ankle, so I was about ready to give it all up, and die right
there, when I discovered your boat. It was like the coming of an angel
to me, my friends, for you have been so kind to a wretched old man.”

Will secretly dabbed at his eyes; and even Bluff winked several times,
as if he felt keenly for a desolate old man, left alone in the world,
and suffering. Only Frank, usually one of the first to lend a helping
hand to anyone in distress, did not speak up, and assure Luther that he
could still count on them to help him. Frank was watching him when he
had the chance, trying to read the other; for he still hardly knew what
to believe.

During the progress of the supper, which they had aboard the _Pot Luck_,
Luther was very quiet. He even seemed sick, in truth, and Frank knew he
would not have the heart to put him ashore. If they carried an old and
weak man some distance on his journey, that could hardly interfere with
the directions given by the owner of the houseboat; who, Will had
admitted, was something of a queer character himself, and hardly to be
taken seriously.

And so, after a consultation among themselves out on the deck, while
Luther dozed in his chair in the cabin, the boys decided to give him a
lift part of the way down to New Orleans. When they grew tired of having
him along, they could make up a purse perhaps, and gather sufficient
funds to buy him a railroad ticket, say from Memphis to his intended
destination.

When they came in later he looked up eagerly, as though he must have
guessed that they had been talking over what should be done about him.
And so Frank considered it good policy to let him know the decision they
had reached.

“We’re going to carry you part way down the river, Mr. Snow,” he
remarked; “and when we put you ashore, perhaps at Memphis, we’ll try and
scare up enough money in the bunch to see you through by railroad to New
Orleans. That’s the best we can do; and even then we’re stretching the
orders of the party who owns the boat, and who was mighty particular
that we harbor no strangers aboard on the trip, for some reason or
other, which we do not understand.”

Frank thought he caught a peculiar twinkle of the shrewd eyes, as he
said this; but immediately Luther Snow showed evidence of considerable
feeling as he insisted on shaking hands with each one of the chums in
order.

“You are a noble lot of boys,” he said, his voice trembling with real
emotion; “and it was a lucky day for me when I met with you. I’ll never
forget you; never!”

And so the _Pot Luck_ received another addition to the passenger list.
Luther Snow seemed disposed to take his share of the work, and at times
insisted on being allowed to do certain tasks.

“Don’t make me feel so much ashamed of being a trespasser on your
bounty, lads,” he would remark, as he forced Jerry to let him cook a
meal a few days after he joined them.

And to the astonishment of the boys he gave them a fine spread, changing
their menu in a way that was pleasing. Jerry himself was the first to
declare that it was splendid, for there was not a bit of jealousy in his
disposition.

Luther seemed pleased to think that he could make himself useful in some
way; because he realized that the boys would much rather be alone by
themselves on this voyage down the great river.

They had passed the mouth of the Missouri, and the addition of so much
water caused the widening of the Mississippi, so that the opposite shore
seemed a great distance away.

Nothing out of the way had happened all this time, though weeks had now
passed since the four chums first started on their Southern journey. The
moon had waxed and waned, and there was again a young crescent in the
western sky when the sun had sunk behind the far distant Missouri shore.

Frank had not made much progress toward solving the puzzle of Luther
Snow. The other boys believed in him fully; and so Frank kept his
suspicions to himself. He fancied that Luther knew he was watching him,
from many signs; but try as he might he could not catch the other off
his guard, if it were really so that the old man was playing a part.

It had been settled among the boys at the start that under no conditions
were they at any time to leave their passenger alone aboard the
houseboat; and Jerry even insisted that as much as possible, someone be
in the cabin when he was. For, of course, Jerry still believed that
there must be a wonderful treasure aboard the _Pot Luck_, hidden under
some loose board, or in a cranny that as yet he had not been able to
find, though he would never give up looking.

And when the boy was amusing himself in sounding the walls, and dipping
into all the little nooks he could find, Frank saw that the old man’s
eyes would follow him, as though he might be secretly amused. But never
once did Luther Snow ask the reason of this search on Jerry’s part.
Perhaps he understood, from various allusions passing between the boys,
that Jerry was in search of a secret hiding place; but as it was none of
his business he had the good sense to keep still.

They were now drawing close to Cairo, situated at the junction of the
Ohio with the Mississippi. And their stock of provisions being rather
low, the houseboat was tied up at the lower end of the city, while Frank
and Bluff went ashore to make purchases, and have them sent down.

Having done this duty, and been assured that the stuff would be
delivered at once, the boys went on to the post office, and to do
several other little errands. Thus they arrived in the vicinity of the
place where the boat had been left several hours before, and with
evening only a short time off.

“What does all that yelling mean, do you suppose, Frank?” Bluff asked,
stopping to listen.

“Well, we heard that the roustabouts and stevedores were on a strike
here, you remember,” his companion replied; “and so, perhaps they’re
having a little fun with some of the strike-breakers, who, they say,
have been brought across from Missouri to take their places.”

“Whew! that means a fight, with stones flying, and some broken heads,”
Bluff remarked. “I’ve always wanted to see what a riot looked like.”

“You come right along with me,” observed Frank, as he hooked his arm in
that of his impulsive chum. “It’s not our funeral, yet; but it might be,
if you thought to stand around when a riot is going on. Here they come
now, and we’ll have to run for the boat yet. They seem to be chasing
some men, too!”

“Say, Frank, look at that boy running with the crowd!” cried Bluff,
excitedly. “There, he’s down now, and I guess a stone must have hit him,
No, he’s on his feet again, and making this way as fast as he can
sprint, with the mob howling after him. Doesn’t he remind you of Ossie
Fredericks; but, of course, it couldn’t be him! Yes, as sure as I’m
talking, I do believe it is; and he’s going to get his medicine from
that crazy crowd of longshoremen, if something don’t happen to save
him!”




CHAPTER XVII—THE FUGITIVES OF THE LEVEE


Frank seldom acted from impulse. Still, he had a habit of thinking
quickly in an emergency, and seldom wasted time.

“We must try and save him, Bluff!” he exclaimed, as he watched the
approaching boy, who was staggering at times, and seemed to be very much
frightened.

How the son of the St Paul millionaire chanced to get mixed up in a
street riot, was the deepest kind of a mystery; but there was certainly
no time for trying to solve it now.

“Sure we ought to, Frank!” came the ready response from impulsive Bluff.

True, he had every reason possible for disliking Oswald; but the
dreadful condition of the other appealed to Bluff, who was even willing
to take chances himself, in order to be of assistance to a fellow human
being in trouble.

“This way, Ossie!” shouted Frank, seeing that the bewildered boy was
about to turn aside, and try to escape by flanking the crowd; which must
have only resulted in another shower of stones, and further injury to
him.

Hearing his name spoken, the boy turned in their direction. Hope had
apparently once more taken root in his soul. In that minute when in
distress, he forgot all the reason he thought he had for hating Frank
Langdon, and only looked toward him as a boy from the same college, who
was offering him assistance.

He staggered a little as he reached them.

“Oh! get me away from here, fellows!” he fairly gasped, as he held out
his trembling hands toward them.

The rioters were hurrying in their direction, some of them shouting all
sorts of threats; and stones even began to patter around the spot. In
other quarters separate fights were in progress, where little bunches of
the strike-breakers had been brought to bay, and were trying to defend
themselves.

Such confusion and howling the boys believed they had never heard
before; nor would they ever care to again.

Frank had already made up his mind just what should be done, so that he
wasted no time after the desperate boy reached them. Hooking a hand
through one of Ossie’s arms he bade Bluff to do the same on the other
side. And in this fashion did the three hurry as fast as they could
along the open levee.

“Where are you going?” asked Bluff, always wanting to know.

“To the houseboat!” replied Frank, glancing back over his shoulder, and
wondering whether they could make it before some of the rioters caught
up with them.

Oswald heard what was said, and made no comment. Doubtless in his
condition of terror any port in a storm might be his motto. Only a short
time before he had thought of the _Pot Luck_ only when plotting how to
injure the houseboat of his rival; but now a refuge aboard that same
craft was to be considered the finest thing possible.

“A little faster, if you can make it, Ossie,” Frank said, presently,
when he began to fear that they would yet be overtaken, and perhaps
beaten badly by the unthinking, yelling rioters.

“Do you think they’ll get us?” gasped the other.

“I guess we’ll make it all right; but if you could start up a little
spurt it’d be a good thing,” replied Frank, encouragingly.

Fear is a splendid spur, and Ossie really did manage to quicken his
pace, though he had to grit his teeth, and make the most desperate
efforts in order to accomplish it.

“Bully! there she is!” cried Bluff, excitedly; and although Bluff had so
recently expressed the desire to look at a riot, doubtless by now he was
fully satisfied with his experience, and would welcome the shelter of
the houseboat almost as gladly as Oswald himself.

They could see the three who had been left on board, watching their
approach; and Frank made all sorts of wild motions with his arms, trying
to tell them to get the hawser loose, so as to be ready to let go the
instant the fugitives of the levee arrived, pushing the houseboat out
upon the swift current.

Jerry seemed bewildered, and it was Will, after all, who grasped the
true meaning of Frank’s shouts and gestures, for he hurried away to the
new rope, where it was fastened ashore, while Jerry snatched up a push
pole, and stood ready for work.

Thicker came the stones; and several times the fleeing boys narrowly
escaped being struck; which was fortunate indeed, since more or less
injury would surely have followed such a disaster.

When they finally reached the boat, the leading spirits among their
unreasoning pursuers, both black and white, were not more than a hundred
feet away, and still running strong.

“Push off!” gasped Frank, himself seizing hold of a pole, and starting
to throw all of his strength into the labor.

Even old Luther lent a hand; and in this crisis the unwelcome passenger
proved at least that he was no coward, Frank noticed, for he exposed
himself as well as any of the others, until finally Frank thrust him
inside the cabin.

The boat was now moving down the river, but altogether too close to the
shore to wholly escape the rain of missiles that came pelting after,
thrown by the angry mob, under the belief that those aboard were somehow
concerned in the bringing of strike-breakers across the river to take
their places.

It kept the boys busy dodging the stones, even though four-fifths of
these dropped into the river. There was a constant pattering and banging
as others struck the cabin and deck of the boat. One smashed through a
window, and the crowd yelled hoarsely with delight at this evidence of
good marksmanship.

Frank, however, believed they would soon be free from this fusillade. He
saw that the levee came to an end just below, and consequently the crowd
could no longer pursue the boat with profit. Besides, there were so many
other scenes of excitement taking place all around, that by degrees the
strikers were dropping off. The floating houseboat was really beyond
their reach now; and they concluded that it would be more fun to attack
a group of men who would fight back, than bombard a few boys who simply
wanted to get away from the city.

So the last stone was thrown, and as the _Pot Luck_ sailed out upon the
broad reach below the city, where the two mighty rivers have their
confluence, Frank and his chums could get their breath again, and survey
the damages.

Two windows in the cabin had been broken, and there were a score of
rocks and pieces of iron lying on the deck; besides numerous dents in
the woodwork; but on the whole, they might feel they had escaped in
pretty fair luck.

Ossie was recovering his breath, and also his courage. He seemed to feel
queerly about having been rescued from danger by the very boys whom he
had been trying to injure for so long.

Frank thought the opportunity for healing the breach between them was a
good one, and after they had managed to push the houseboat in toward the
shore, below the mouth of the Ohio, a hard task that took much time, he
approached his rival, with a pleasant smile on his face.

“That was a pretty ugly experience, Ossie,” he remarked. “How did it
happen you got caught in that mob, and were taken for a strike-breaker?”

“Why, you see, we had anchored down below here, when I remembered that I
ought to have done an important errand for my father in Cairo,” the
other explained. “As our engine was out of commission again, I hired a
man to row me up to the city. He took more than half the morning to do
it, too, and was to bring me back again in the afternoon. I heard about
the rioting, and thought I’d like to see something of it on my way down
to the river to find my boatman. Then, almost before I knew what was
happening, it broke out all around me, and I was caught up in a pack of
blacks retreating before an attack of another mob. I tried to get away,
but you saw what happened. Whew! I wouldn’t like to repeat that
experience. And look, there’s the _Lounger_ right now! Could you hold
up, and put me aboard?”

Frank was quite willing. They had one passenger aboard now, which was
more than the law, as laid down by Uncle Felix, allowed; and they
certainly did not care for another.

He believed that if Oswald had listened to his better nature he would
have wiped the slate clean then and there, after finding himself
indebted so heavily to his supposed rival; and become friends from that
hour with the crew of the _Pot Luck_.

But there were his three chums lining the side of the _Lounger_, and
evidently in a great state of mind to see Ossie coming back aboard the
other houseboat, which certainly showed signs of hard usage.

The anchor was allowed to drop overboard, and Frank himself took the
captain of the _Lounger_ across the few fathoms of water separating the
two houseboats. Oswald was greeted by a noisy outcry as he climbed up on
deck. The three who stood there, fearing that there was some danger that
the bad feeling of the past would be crossed out, scowled at the crew of
the _Pot Luck_, and even gave utterance to more or less contemptuous
remarks concerning the rival craft.

No doubt these things had their influence upon Oswald. He looked at
Frank after he had climbed aboard his own boat, and seemed almost about
to stretch out his hand, to thank him for all he had done; but the old
spirit was still uppermost.

“So-long, Langdon. Do as much for you some day, perhaps. But, of course
you had to save your own bacon in the bargain; for as soon as you ran
they believed you were strike-breakers as much as they did me. All the
same, it was rather decent of you; and perhaps you may not be the bad
lot I’ve considered you.”

Frank only smiled, and made no reply, as he paddled back to his own
boat. But he knew that his chums were boiling with indignation, for as
they once more resumed their passage down-stream Bluff burst out with:

“Well, of all the mean, ornery skunks I ever met up with, that Ossie
Fredericks takes the cake. He hasn’t even common decency enough to offer
to shake hands, and thank the fellows who stood all that stone pelting
just to drag him in out of the wet. Shucks! I wish now, Frank, we’d just
let him take his medicine. He’d be getting all he deserved, and no more,
the ungrateful cur!”

“You never can tell,” said Frank, calmly. “Perhaps, when he gets to
thinking it over, he may see a light; but we only did our duty. Bluff;
and that’s got to be our reward.”




CHAPTER XVIII—WHAT JERRY’S STICK BROUGHT DOWN


More days passed, and the houseboat was making steady progress down the
Mississippi, with as happy a party of lads aboard as could be found
anywhere. Indeed, each day seemed to bring new delights along with it;
and so lighthearted were the chums that every little while Bluff would
break out in some college song, to be joined in the chorus by several
other hearty voices.

They fished many times, and took toll of the waters they passed over;
though sometimes the hooks came in empty, and they had to change the
order arranged for dinner that evening. Once Bluff, who had gone ashore
with his favorite gun over his shoulders, was heard to shoot several
times; and the others were more or less concerned as to what manner of
spoils he might have run across; for really at this time of year the law
did not allow of hunting, save for woodcock, and very few other edible
kinds of game.

When he came in shortly afterwards it was to fling down a magnificent
specimen of the red-tailed hawk.

“Why, would you believe it,” asserted Bluff, stoutly, “the measly thing
just went for me like hot cakes, and I never did a thing to rile her up.
I had to use my gun first of all, to club her away; and then, as she
darted down at me, I just thought it was a mighty poor game that two
couldn’t play at; so I began to shoot. Took several times to make her be
good. Looky here, where she scratched me in the cheek when she tried to
carry me off at first.”

The others never did know the true inwardness of that story. Frank
guessed that Bluff, deeming a big, saucy hawk fair game, had blazed away
and wounded her; and that he got his scratched cheek when he came to
close quarters with the bird.

But to the victor belong the spoils; and in reality Frank believed the
hawk was likely to do more damage to farmers’ chickens and the small
song birds, than it might good by destroying mice and such vermin that
play such havoc with the growing crops. And for many days did that
handsome hawk hang there, nailed on the cabin wall of the houseboat.

Frank continued to study Luther Snow. He was slowly making up his mind
that they must get rid of him before arriving anywhere near New Orleans.
He had mentioned Vicksburg once or twice as the point where they would
purchase him a ticket on the railroad, so he could get to his
destination quickly; but secretly Frank had arranged with his chums that
Memphis should be the point of departure.

“Between us,” remarked Jerry, on one occasion, as they were talking it
over together, while Luther was inside the cabin, asleep on the cot they
had made up for his occupancy; “I really don’t think the old chap wants
to leave us at all, but would rather stay aboard till we get to
Orleans.”

“Sure he would,” remarked Will, with a nod and a grin; “he’d be a silly
not to, when he’s certain of three square meals a day, and such meals,”
and he smacked his lips in a way that must have made the cook feel proud
that his talent was appreciated so much.

“Yes, I happen to know he wants to stick by us,” remarked Bluff.

“Tell us how, then,” said Frank, quickly, his eye on the door of the
cabin.

“Well, more’n a few times, when we got to talkin’, Luther, he’d turn to
the subject of the great expense he’d been to us; and then he’d always
say he hoped we’d change our minds, and not put him ashore at Vicksburg,
because he was _so_ contented aboard here, and wished he could just
finish the voyage with us. Besides, he said we might need his help later
on, as a doctor; and you know he did fix me up the finest way ever when
I fell on that axe, and cut my leg so bad a week ago. Reckon no regular
sawbones could have done the job better.”

“He says he studied for a doctor’s sheepskin away back, and was always
sorry he didn’t keep right along,” Will put in.

“How about that, Frank; do we keep him or assist him on his way by
rail?” Bluff asked; but Frank would not commit himself, because he
believed that in some way the old man might hear of it, and play “sick”
when they drew near Memphis, so that they could not have the heart to
put him ashore.

He was himself coming to some sort of conclusion in the matter, and it
first of all seemed to be founded on a certain fact, which by now Frank
had made certain of. Luther Snow was _not_ the real name of their
passenger. Frank had made a startling discovery one day recently, and it
put an end to his bewilderment at least. It happened that, chancing to
notice some handkerchiefs the old man had stowed in his various pockets,
and which he was washing out, after a crude fashion that would have made
a woman laugh, Frank saw that in every case a name had been carefully
erased with indelible ink.

Then again there began to be other little things about the old man that
told the observing lad he surely had never been a carpenter. Frank
purposely asked him to build some boxes out of several smooth boards
purchased for the purpose; and the result was a botched job that any
second-class carpenter would have blushed to own. Even Bluff screwed up
his eyebrows when he saw them, and privately declared that he did not
wonder old Luther was out of a job so often, if that was a sample of the
best he could do along the line of his trade.

To Frank there was a deeper significance in this failure to make good on
the part of their passenger. No wonder his hands were so free from
calloused places, for Frank now felt positive that Luther had never been
a carpenter in all his life.

If that part was made up, then probably the entire tale was only a
“fairy story,” told for a purpose. That purpose was to get aboard the
houseboat, for some reason or other. Well, he had been aboard for some
weeks now, and nothing had happened, only he seemed to like it so well
he wanted to remain with the boys until they reached New Orleans.

There was something about this desire on his part that impressed Frank.
If, as he now actually began to believe, Luther Snow was really the
Marcus Stackpole of whom Uncle Felix had particularly warned them, why
had he not picked up the hidden treasure Jerry was always talking about,
and disappeared long ago?

Frank somehow began to believe that, after all, there was no secret
_cache_ aboard the boat which might contain valuables in the shape of
papers or jewels. Jerry liked to think there was, but really they had
not a peg on which to hang such an idea; except that queer Uncle Felix
seemed to want to keep strangers off the boat, and particularly a man he
seemed to dislike very much, one Marcus Stackpole.

Frank was even now busying himself with trying to lay some little trap
by means of which he might learn the truth.

“I’ll take him unawares some time,” he was saying to himself, as he
stood on deck that afternoon, after they had tied up, with the sunlight
around him, and looked out from under the shady branches of the tree to
which the boat was fast; “and spring that name on him—call him Mr.
Stackpole. If he can look me in the eye, and never show a sign, I’ll
have to think I’m mistaken; but all the same, off this boat he goes at
Memphis, if I have to get an ambulance, and send him to the hospital.”

Bluff was seated, as he often might be seen, on the rail of the boat;
while Will pottered over the tangled fish lines, for Jerry had taken a
notion to put a new roll of film in the little camera, and was even then
rubbing it up. Luther Snow, a blanket about his shoulders, sat near by,
watching it all in a pleased sort of way.

“Time was when I could stand anything, boys,” remarked the old man as he
gathered this covering closer to his body; “and I reckon I’ve been
through considerable all over the wide world, for a man who never had a
cent that he didn’t earn himself. But I’m getting a little old now, you
see. I begin to feel rheumatism in my bones, and sometimes I begin to
believe that my days as a rover are nearly over.”

Frank always listened when he started to speak of experiences in his
checkered past. It often aroused the curiosity of the boy to understand
how a man who, as he confessed himself, was only a common carpenter (and
a mighty poor one at that, Frank would say to himself), had been able to
get around in all the queer corners of the world that Luther Snow had.

He seemed to know many foreign cities by heart, and spoke of certain
things in a way that only one familiar with them could do. Well, there
could be no doubt of one thing, and this was that Luther occupied the
rôle of a mystery to Frank, a puzzle he could not wholly solve.

If, then, he proved to be Marcus Stackpole, the very man against whom
they had been especially warned, what did he want?

Frank kept repeating that to himself time and again as he lounged there
and in the light of the declining sun watched his chums; then turned his
eyes in the direction of the man who had the blanket about his
shoulders, and who seemed so satisfied to be with them on board Uncle
Felix’s houseboat.

It was Jerry who startled them all suddenly by calling out:

“Hey! there’s a gray squirrel right over your head, Bluff! Watch me give
the little beggar a scare, will you?”

He reached over, and picked up one of a number of sticks of wood which
had been brought on board at their last stop, being intended to serve as
fuel for the little cook stove, after they had been chipped in half,
perhaps.

This was a short and heavy one Jerry had selected. Rising to his feet,
he gave it one whirl around his head, and then let fly. Jerry had always
been reckoned something of a thrower. He often played in the pitcher’s
box before he went away from home, and was even now a promising fielder
on the sub nine at college.

So Frank would not have been very much surprised had he succeeded in
knocking the squirrel in question off his perch. But he was very much
astonished at the most remarkable consequences of Jerry’s shot.

There was an angry scream, such as only an enraged cat could make; and
something large and hairy, with extended legs, came floundering down
upon the deck of the houseboat directly in front of Bluff. Indeed, in
its passage, the wildcat, for it turned out to be nothing else, made a
vicious stab for Bluff; and that excited as well as alarmed individual
was so taken aback, that quite naturally he lost his grip on the railing
of the boat, and fell over into the river.

This was getting to be a settled habit with Bluff, for he seemed capable
of going overboard on the slightest excuse, just as though he rather
liked taking a plunge into the cool waters of the Mississippi.

And the angry cat sprawled there on the deck, yowling and snarling, as
if daring anyone to dispute his right to be monarch of all he surveyed.




CHAPTER XIX—A BOBCAT ON BOARD


“Help!” gasped Jerry, who seemed to be in some sort of a pickle, having
managed to get his legs crossed in such a way, as he sat there pottering
with Will’s camera, that in the excitement of the moment he was unable
to either rise, or roll out of the danger zone.

As sometimes happens in a case like this, it turned out to be the one
least expected to play the part of hero. Nobody dreamed that Will—quiet,
sensitive Will, the artist of the expedition, and a boy given more to
dreaming than doing strenuous things—would jump into the breach as he
did.

In fact, he was never able to explain it himself, save that somehow he
seemed to imagine those clubs on the deck were just made for belaboring
a tiger-cat over the head with; and from the fact that Bluff had gone
over into the river, with Jerry calling wildly for help, it must be up
to him to _do_ something.

Why, he snatched up one of the heavy sticks as though he had been
anticipating just such a sudden call, and had his plan of campaign
already laid out.

“Take care, Will; don’t let him get in at you with those sharp claws!”
cried the startled Frank, as he too tried to possess himself of a
suitable cudgel, if there chanced to be another worth having in the
bunch.

He could not find what he wanted on the spur of the moment—one was too
slender to promise any results; while another seemed much too short with
which to attack a vicious wildcat.

Will did not appear to expect any help in his fight. The way he kept at
it was a revelation to those who watched him, for all the while Frank
sought his stick, he kept one eye on the battle, determined to jump in,
if necessary, club or no club.

Whack! came the cudgel Will yielded against the side of the bobcat,
knocking the savage beast sprawling on the deck; though like his kind
the cat could not be kept down, but was on its feet instantly, more
angry than ever.

“Whoop! hit him again for his mother!”

It was surely Bluff who gave utterance to that shout. Evidently he had
not cared to stay there in the river, while so much that was exciting
seemed to be occurring aboard the houseboat; and taking advantage of
some objects upon which he was able to seize, Bluff had clambered up far
enough to thrust his head over the side, in time to witness that
splendid “home run hit” made by timid Will.

Well, they would hardly be likely to ever call him that again, after
seeing how vigorously he went after the now demoralized wildcat, getting
in blows whenever an opening occurred, and meanwhile poking at the beast
threateningly.

It crouched there, snarling as only such a beast can, with its ears
drawn back, and its green eyes seeming to emit sparks. Once it sprang
full at the boy, and Mr. Snow uttered a cry of alarm; he made his way
into the cabin, and now held Bluff’s repeating gun in his hands, with
the air of a hunter accustomed to such tools; but there seemed small
chance to get a fair shot, the boy and the cat were so close to each
other.

But Will proved as quick as a flash in his movements. He met this leap
of his feline foe just as cleverly as a champion ball player might a
swift one, straight over the plate. There was a loud concussion; and
then they had a view of a squirming, hairy figure just passing over the
rail above Bluff, four legs working overtime in the effort to get a grip
with those keen-pointed and poisonous claws.

Luther Snow thrust the gun into the hands of Frank, who had been in the
act of trying to meet the figure of the cat at the instant the animal
made his spring.

“It’s your right to wind him up, Frank!” the man said; and seemed as
cool as any one accustomed to scenes of peril all his life could be.

So Frank stepped to the rail, and seeing the baffled bobcat just about
climbing the bank, he wound up his existence with one shot.

“Wow! is it all over?” demanded Bluff, who, when the cat came sailing
toward him a second time, had simply let go, and dropped with another
splash into the river; because, as he afterwards said, he was already as
wet as he could get; and knew he would be safe down there from those
threatening claws.

Will was as pale as a ghost, and breathing hard from his exertions, when
Frank rushed over to seize his hand and squeeze it.

“Good boy, Will!” he exclaimed. “We’re proud of you this day, believe
that. Why, what you didn’t do to that poor beast could be put into a
thimble. I’ll never, never forget it, as long as I live!”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” remarked Jerry, who, it seemed, had finally
managed to get on his feet again, and now stood there; holding the
camera in his hands, a grin of delight on his face.

“What do you mean, Jerry?” asked Frank.

But Will saw the little black box, and being himself always just wild to
snap off everything he could run across that promised to make a good
picture, he seemed to jump to the right conclusion.

“Did you do it, Jerry?” he demanded, eagerly.

“I rattled her right lively; and if I didn’t make a big mistake, you
ought to get some good pictures out of the lot,” replied Jerry, handing
Will’s property over.

“Well,” remarked the wet figure that came crawling over the rail just
then, “if you only managed to press the button when that crazy cat was
sailing into Will, and our chum gave him that blow on the nose, you’ve
got something we’ll all be proud to see.”

“That was when I pushed the button the last time, I reckon,” Jerry
declared; “but honest to goodness, I was that excited I wouldn’t like to
say right now that I got anything but the tip of pussy’s tail.”

“Oh! I hope it won’t be so bad as that,” said Will; “not that I want to
figure in a picture, because I’d ten times rather it was one of the
rest; but I’ve always wanted to get a snapshot of a bobcat on the jump.”

“He was on the jump, all right!” affirmed Bluff. “I thought he’d drop on
my head, and jab my eyes out, so I ducked. I like cats all right, in
their proper places; which I take it is in the laps of old maids. I
haven’t lost any cat, and wasn’t looking for one. But, Frank, since I’m
wet already, let me go in and get your game before he drifts away.”

“Don’t call it _my_ game,” remarked Frank, positively; “that honor
belongs to Will here. And if we can cure the skin, he’s going to have a
little rug made out of it to remember this occasion by.”

“Hear! hear!” cried Jerry; while Bluff, who shed moisture with every
step he took, waded out to where the dead animal was floating on the
water in a little swirl just below the tied-up houseboat.

“Well, I’m going to develop that film to-night, you hear,” said Will;
“because I just can’t wait to see what Jerry did. I hope he got more of
the cat than his tail. It ain’t much of a tail at that, either, seems to
me. But look at these claws, and his sharp teeth. Ugh! I don’t believe
I’d have had the nerve to tackle him, if I’d seen them first.”

“Yes, you would!” declared Bluff, confidently. “Always thought you was
timid-like, William, because you never blew your horn about what you’d
do; but sure, I’ve changed my mind; and now I reckon you’ve got more
real spunk than anyone in the whole bunch.”

“Just what I meant to say, Bluff,” remarked Frank.

“And my sentiments to a hair,” Jerry added.

“I’ve seen some instances of bravery in my time, but few that could
equal the way he attacked that angry wildcat, and sent it over the
rail,” Luther Snow said, with sincerity in his voice.

“But, Will, I hope the beast didn’t scratch you anywhere,” Frank went
on; “for you know it’s sometimes a dangerous thing to be wounded by the
claws of any wild beast that lives on animal food. Lots of hunters have
died from blood poisoning, even when they thought the scratches hardly
worth washing, they were so small.”

“He never touched me, Frank, that I know of; and I can’t see a sign of a
scratch anywhere on my hands,” Will replied, proudly.

“And there don’t seem to be any on your neck or face,” Jerry declared,
after an examination. “But, Frank, if there had been, would you have
used that purple stuff you carry in that little bottle, tightly corked,
and labeled ‘poison’?”

“Just what it’s for,” came the reply, “and it disinfects any sort of
wound that seems suspicious. The only trouble is, that it leaves a dark
stain on the flesh for some days. It’s permanganate of potash, and any
druggist will put it up if he’s told what it’s for. But when one’s life
may pay the forfeit, what does a little pain, or stain, amount to?”

“You are quite right, my boy,” remarked Luther Snow. “I’ve carried a
small phial of that same stuff thousands of miles, over African trails,
and through the better part of India. And if I’ve used it once, I
suppose I have fifty times; for myself or some gun bearer who was clawed
by a lion or tiger.”

Again did Frank have that deep conviction that there was something
strange about this Luther Snow, as he called himself. How a poor
carpenter, who had never had a dollar he did not earn himself, could
spend years in hunting just for pleasure, all over Asia and Africa,
bothered him. But some day he expected to know what the key could be to
this riddle.

That night the talk was all about past experiences that had come the way
of the four Outdoor Chums. One story brought up another, and through it
all Luther Snow sat there, listening as though spellbound. If he had
been somewhat of a traveler and a hunter, as an old man; surely these
boys deserved more or less credit for what they had been through,
considering their years.

Frank felt drawn toward the man in spite of himself. There were times
when he believed that if this mystery that hung over Luther Snow could
only be lifted he might look on him with friendly eyes.

But he never wavered in the least with regard to that resolution he had
taken, which was to the effect that when they reached the city on the
bluff, Memphis, he would play a little lone hand he was arranging, and
see to it that Luther was left behind; with plenty of money in his
pocket, placed there secretly, to cover all further expenses down to the
city he wished to reach, according to his story—New Orleans.




CHAPTER XX—THE FLOATING TREE


“How did they turn out, Will?”

It was Jerry who asked this question. They had all left the cabin, and
given it over to the photographer for an hour, so that he could make use
of it for a dark room, in which to develop his films. And the opening of
the door, with his appearance on deck, was a sign that his operations
had been brought to a conclusion.

“Simply immense!” exclaimed the other, in a triumphant tone. “Jerry,
when it comes to snapping things that are in perpetual motion, you
certainly take the cake.”

“You mean I got a little more than the stub tail of the cat?” inquired
Jerry.

“You got the whole business down to a dot!” cried Will. “It’s going to
be the greatest picture ever; and will give our collection some class,
let me tell you. The only thing that makes me feel bad is that I didn’t
have the honor of taking it. Everybody’ll say Jerry ought to have been
elected official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club, instead
of me.”

“Oh! rats!” scoffed Jerry; “when we’ve got fifty splendid pictures that
you snapped under the funniest conditions ever, some of them worth being
entered for a prize. But I’m coming in, and take a squint at those
negatives, if you’ll let me, Will.”

“Sure; they’ve been in the hypo bath, and are fixed, all right. I’ve got
’em dripping in the wash right now. Come along, everybody, and see a
panorama. The whole thing, from the start, up to where our unwelcome
visitor took a notion to go overboard. It’s like a story, continued from
one number to the next. When you’ve looked at all the pictures you’ve
got it just as if you’d read it between covers.”

“All but me going over backward?” laughed Bluff.

“Wait and see,” Will replied, as he led the way into the cabin; “I think
Jerry was just going to snap you at the time the cat dropped; for you’re
in the beginning just as big as life, with your hands thrown up, as you
keel over backwards; and the cat sprawling on the deck, its back arched.
Oh! you can’t squirm out of this game, Bluff! I tell you it’s the finest
thing that ever came down the pike.”

“We must open all the windows, and air the cabin before we think of
turning in,” remarked practical Frank, snuffing the rank kerosene odor
in the atmosphere, caused by Will’s close confinement with his smoky
dark-lantern.

All of them were delighted with the negatives that Will held up against
a light, so that they could see. Being familiar with photographic work,
they understood the lights and shadows; and could see that, considering
the peculiar conditions under which Jerry had pressed the button time
and again, the remarkable series of thrilling pictures were strongly
featured. And through them all, saving possibly the first, Will took the
leading part; after the wildcat, of course, which occupied the centre of
the stage.

Once more they sat outside talking, while the cabin aired.

“Seems to me we’ve been having a lot of rain lately, for the good old
summer time,” Bluff remarked.

“I should say so,” Jerry went on. “Why, we can see logs passing us every
five minutes that we look out, after we tie up. And I reckon some of the
tributaries of the Mississippi must be at the flood stage. Wouldn’t
surprise me any to discover chicken coops floating past.”

“Don’t I wish we could, with the chickens perched on the ridge-pole!”
chuckled Bluff. “Chicken is one of my weak points. I feel lost when I
don’t get a feed of fowl once a week, anyway.”

“Frank, what was that you seemed to be staring at just when it got
dusk?” Will asked. “I saw you looking, and then go to the end of the
boat with your hand over your eyes to see better.”

“Oh! that was a passing boat,” Bluff spoke up; “I noticed the light in
the cabin myself, but was too busy to bother.”

“I’ve more than half an idea we’ve seen that boat before,” remarked
Frank, quietly.

“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bluff. “Now, I reckon you mean our friend,
Ossie Fredericks; don’t you, Frank?”

“Just what I do,” returned the other. “Of course it was too gloomy for
me to make sure, and the boat was some distance out; but I could partly
see the shape of the cabin, and it seemed to correspond with that on the
_Lounger_. Then it was running with power, for we all must have heard
the sound of the engine exhaust.”

“Looks like that crowd meant to take as long a voyage as we’ve got ahead
of us; and we’re apt to run across ’em in New Orleans, when we get
there,” Will remarked.

“Well, we don’t own the river, and can’t tell ’em to go back home,
because their company isn’t wanted,” said Jerry.

“I hope we see nothing more of them, because Oswald is bound to get even
with Frank for something or other,” was what Will observed; for he was
by nature the most peaceable of all the Outdoor Chums, and disliked a
row.

“Yes, get even with him for saving his life,” grunted Bluff. “If ever
you catch me taking chances with a howling mob of roustabouts, or any
other thing, just to save a fellow like Ossie Fredericks the beating he
ought to have, why you’ll know it—that’s what!”

But Frank, although he made no remark, knew this was not so. He
understood Bluff better than the other did himself. In fact, he often
said that the bark of Bluff was worse than his bite; and he felt
positive that if the occasion arose again, whereby his chum could save
even Ossie Fredericks from being injured, Bluff would put himself out to
do it.

In the morning they saw that what had been said about the driftwood was
certainly true; for out on the swelling river even uprooted trees were
floating, having been undermined up one of the many tributaries of the
Mississippi.

“Look sharp, fellows,” said Bluff, “and if you see a lone chicken coop
coming along, let me know. It’s me into the little dinghy then, and away
to the rescue. I’d sure hate to see any fowls drown.”

“And to save them from it, you’d cut their heads off; eh, Bluff?”
laughed Frank, as he passed in to help Jerry with the breakfast.

All through that day they kept passing trees that were afloat, and
which, somehow, did not seem able to make as good progress on the
current of the river as did the houseboat.

Bluff was frequently using the field glasses to spy out that expected
hencoop which he stoutly declared would be along shortly; but as they
had corned-beef hash for supper that night, with some baking powder
biscuits, which Jerry baked, it can be set down as positive that no
fowls arrived by flood-express, or otherwise.

Even the fishing seemed to be useless while the river was at such a
“booming” stage, and Jerry hardly knew what to do with himself evenings,
for that had become his favorite pursuit of late.

Again they had had a heavy downpour during the afternoon. Of course the
roof of the cabin kept them from being bothered while the rain
continued, and they could laugh at such happenings. But Frank kept
pretty close to the shore, lest they lose sight of it when the mist hung
over the river, and find themselves too far out.

Even the boats bound up-river seemed to be having troubles of their own
in dodging the floating trees and logs; for they did much whistling as
long as they remained within ear-shot of the boy-voyagers.

About five in the afternoon, Frank concluded that they had better be on
the lookout for a place to tie up.

“I know it’s earlier than usual,” he said, noticing that the others
seemed somewhat surprised at his declaration; “but you notice how the
banks are crumbling all along here. We’ll be lucky enough to find a tree
to-night that will answer for our hawser. You notice that we don’t call
it a cable any more, since we bought that big heavy rope to take the
place of the one that played us such a mean trick by breaking, in that
storm, and letting the boat go adrift. Hawser sounds so much more like
business, too.”

“How about that place down below, Frank?” asked Jerry, pointing. “Looks
like a good tree close to the edge of the bank, all right. Shall we work
her in?”

“I suppose so,” replied Frank; and yet as they approached the spot he
was seen to shake his head seriously.

“Won’t do, I’m afraid, boys,” he observed.

“But, Frank, that tree would hold a church; it’s a big chap, and not
rotten either, so far as I can see,” Bluff remarked.

“And look at its roots sticking out, would you?” Jerry added; “why,
Frank, even some of them would hold the boat, if we didn’t want to climb
the bank.”

“There’s danger of a cave-in, boys,” Frank went on to say. “One must
have gone right above here, this very afternoon; and if ever it does
come, why, you can see that giant tree must topple over into the river.
They always fall that way.”

“Wow! excuse me!” cried Bluff, as he craned his neck to look up at the
towering top of the big tree. “Why, if that ever came down on our _Pot
Luck_, there wouldn’t be a grease spot left of her.”

“How about the crew?” demanded Will. “I move we go on, fellows. Better
find a tree that’s further away; or else just throw our old mud-hook
overboard, and come to an anchor for one night.”

Just below they discovered a safe bay, where the water was deep, and a
convenient tree back from the shore offered a chance to secure the
hawser. Here they hastened to enter, and tie up.

“No danger in this place; is there, Frank?” asked Will, a little
apprehensively.

“Not at all,” came the reply, in a tone that quieted all Will’s fears;
for he had the most unbounded faith in his chum.

They were just getting up from supper when they heard a tremendous
racket close by. There was a crash, and a splash, as though a whole
section of the river bank had caved in.

“The big tree!” exclaimed Will, turning white.

“I wonder, now,” remarked Jerry, rather in doubt; while Bluff declared
he meant to go ashore, and find out if it could really be so.

He came back later, lantern in hand, and reported that the tree, to
which they had thought to tie up, had entirely disappeared, having been
undermined by the rising flood, so that it toppled over into the river,
and was carried off. Where it had once proudly stood, there now remained
only a gap in the river bank. And once again did three of the chums have
reason to be thankful for Frank Langdon’s thoughtfulness. What their
fate might have been had they carried out their first intention, was not
pleasant to contemplate.

During the night another heavy shower fell, and for an hour the rain
pattered upon the roof of the houseboat. Frank declared, in the morning,
that this sort of weather in the summer was a rare thing; for, as a
rule, the rivers are at flood in the early spring, and decline through
the hot months.

“See any chickens roosting on a floating coop, Bluff?” asked Jerry, at
one time during the morning, as he noticed the other handling the
glasses nervously.

“Frank, oh! Frank, look here!” called Bluff, without paying any
attention to the joking words of the other; and as Frank came hurrying
out of the cabin Bluff went on to say: “take a look, and see what you
make of that tree down there, that we’re catching up with. Seems to me
there’s people in the branches!”

Instantly there was excitement aboard the houseboat. Frank peered
through the glasses, and immediately confirmed the words of the
discoverer; and as the others, in turn, took a look, they added their
opinions.

“A man, a woman, and, seems to me, two children, are perched among the
branches of the tree,” Frank continued, soon afterwards, as he looked
again; “and as the thing seems to be moving very slowly we’re catching
up, all right.”

“But how in the wide world d’ye suppose they ever got there?” demanded
Will.

“Their house may have been carried off; and, finding that it was
sinking, they climbed into that treetop when they had the chance. Now, I
recollect I _did_ hear a call just before morning. I listened, and made
up my mind it was only a wild bird, perhaps a night-heron hunting its
food along the flooded bank. But it must have been one of those children
crying in fear!”

“Well, we’ve sure got to get that family aboard, and take them to the
next town. Why, perhaps those children are half starved for something to
eat right now!” Jerry remarked, warmly, for he knew what that must feel
like.

“They see us,” Frank said, a little later, when they had approached much
closer to the floating tree, in the branches of which the fugitives of
the flood clung. “The man is shouting something, and sure enough, he
seems to be pointing at the other end of the log, as if—great Cæsar!”

“What is it, Frank?” asked Will, anxiously; “is the tree sinking?”

“Something seems to be crouched there on the butt end of the floating
tree,” was what Frank went on to say; “there, it moved then, and crawled
up a yard or so nearer the people in the top. Boys, get a gun out; for I
believe it’s a panther!”




CHAPTER XXI—THE NEW OWNER OF THE HOUSEBOAT


“A panther!” echoed Bluff, springing alongside Frank, where he could see
better.

“Well, what do you think of that?” cried Jerry; while old Luther came
hurrying out of the cabin.

“Oh! Frank, get your rifle, quick!” put in Will, nervously. “Bluff’s
pump-gun isn’t such a bad weapon, after all; but with such a beast a
rifle ought to be the right thing.”

Frank seemed to have the same idea, for he hastened into the cabin; and
when he immediately returned carrying the repeating gun that had served
him on many occasions in the past, Will appeared to think that it was
all over but the shouting, such was the confidence he felt in his chum.

“How is it now?” asked Frank, as he came up.

“Why, the tree is heading this way; that is, I mean we seem to be
bearing straight down on it,” Jerry replied; and considering the
excitement that all of the chums were laboring under just then, it was
not strange that he found himself mixed up slightly in his description
of the way things were going.

“If we keep on gaining we’ll come mighty near running the tree down,”
Bluff added. “And then you’ll get a chance to give the panther his
passage ticket.”

“But the tree acts queer,” Will declared. “Every now and then it just
swings, and turns around. Now you see it, and now you don’t. Sometimes
the branches are heading in our direction, and again it’s the butt; with
the ugly cat lying there waiting till he gets good and hungry, when he
expects to make a meal from one of that poor family.”

“Huh!” grunted Bluff, “I rather think that critter is keeping an eye on
us. Chances are he just feels it in his bones that we’d be bound to
break up his dinner party, somehow; eh, Frank?”

“He’s moving,” replied the one addressed; “and seems to be creeping
toward the people right now!”

“Sure!” declared Jerry; “you can hear them hollering to beat the band;
but they make so much noise I don’t seem to be able to understand
anything they say.”

“They’re trying to tell us what the panther is doing; and begging us to
shoot him as quick as we can,” Frank said, with a serious look on his
face.

“Which same you’re only too willing to do, I reckon?” remarked Bluff.

“But the trouble is, I don’t seem able to fire from here without taking
some chances of hitting one of the people,” Frank went on, betraying
what was worrying him so much. “A bullet can strike the hard limb of a
tree, and be deflected in all sorts of queer ways, you know.”

“Frank, you are right, there,” said old Luther Snow, admiringly.

“But we must do something to help them, Frank!” ejaculated Will, himself
ready to undertake the work of rescue if his companions failed to think
up a remedy for the trouble.

“That’s right!” cried Bluff; and immediately he disappeared in the
cabin; which the others knew meant that he was after the pump-gun, upon
which he seemed to place so much dependence, though it hardly seemed the
right kind of weapon when facing a panther.

“I was thinking,” Frank went on, as if making up his mind; “that if I
dropped into our little dinghy, I might paddle around to the other side
of the tree, and get a crack at the beast.”

“You’re just right you could, Frank!” admitted Jerry; and even Will,
although not used to much in this line, nodded his head.

Then he vanished, as though an idea had struck him; and Frank
understood. Will, too, had gone to arm himself, not with a gun, but his
snapshot camera, which he meant to use in taking several pictures of the
strange scene, with the floating tree, the family hanging in the
branches; and perhaps a glimpse of the savage beast crouching there.

Will and Bluff appeared at almost the same time, and it was to find
Frank hastening to drop into the little skiff which they dignified by
the better sounding name of dinghy or “dinky.” Frank had already placed
his rifle aboard, with the muzzle turned away from him, as every careful
hunter always makes sure of doing.

“Set me loose, Jerry,” he remarked.

They had almost overtaken the big tree, in the branches of which this
strange little comedy, that threatened to become a tragedy at any
minute, was taking place.

“Can you see him from up there, boys?” called out Frank, as, paddle in
hand, he started the boat down the current, and in a direction that
would allow him to get below the tree.

“There! I got a fine shot at him then!” cried Will; who, being an
artist, was always on the lookout for a pose, and a picture that would
do him credit when exposed to the gaze of his friends at home.

“But he dodged right afterwards,” added Jerry; “and I don’t see him now,
Frank.”

“Say, he’s climbing up among the branches, I do believe!” called Bluff,
who was again on the lookout, gun in hand.

The people in the tree were shouting at a great rate, the man trying to
urge Frank to hurry and shoot, the woman and children shrieking in their
terror, as they saw the treacherous, sleek beast constantly drawing
nearer.

But Frank on his part did not really believe that the panther meant to
attack the fugitives of the flood. With the instinct of his kind the
beast, no doubt, understood that all he had to fear lay in the direction
of these newcomers.

The wary panther had already observed Frank’s gun, and seemed to know
that his best policy, just now, was to try and keep some object between
himself and the lad.

For several minutes Frank used the paddle diligently, in the endeavor to
gain such a position that he could get a good view of the panther. Twice
he laid the paddle hastily down and snatched up his gun; but there must
have been something about his movement that warned the beast of his
danger; for on both occasions the big cat quickly changed his position;
and when Frank was ready to fire, he could not do so.

Then again the people got within his range as the floating tree took a
sudden notion to turn slowly around. The current carried him faster than
the unwieldly forest monarch, so that in order to keep within a certain
distance of the trunk, Frank was presently forced to take to the paddle
again.

This was discouraging; but he expected that, sooner or later, he would
get the opportunity he craved, and be able to shoot the dangerous
customer.

All at once he noticed that the tree was turning again. It was close to
the houseboat now; indeed, a small gap of only a dozen feet or so seemed
to separate the two floating objects; and Frank knew that there was
danger of Bluff being tempted to use his shotgun, if he saw the opening.

A sudden yell from all the other chums told Frank that something had
happened; and what it was he instantly guessed when he saw how the three
boys scattered. Two of them, Bluff and Will, seemed to be making for the
open cabin door; but Jerry was in some sort of trap, for the crouching
form of the panther, lashing its sides with its long tail, as though
fully aroused, stood between him and safety.

The animal seemed in the very act of leaping on Jerry, and seeing this,
and that he could not get in a shot because of the many small branches
that intervened, Frank shouted to his chum, warningly:

“Look out, Jerry, he’s going to jump! Over the side into the water with
you! He won’t follow you there! Hurry! make a spring for it, Jerry!”

Apparently Jerry understood that this was his best plan. There was
really no time for thinking, or choosing, with that furious beast ready
to launch his long, slender body through the air.

Jerry made the plunge.

Frank knew there was nothing more to fear from that quarter. Jerry was a
good swimmer, and could easily make the tree close by; in the branches
of which he was quickly perched, dripping wet, but still full of pluck.

The situation had changed in a wonderful manner. Jerry was in the tree,
and the panther apparently owned the houseboat; for Bluff, old Luther,
and Will had retreated to the cabin, the door of which they had shut and
barred behind them, and from the windows they were shouting to Frank,
trying to tell him where the panther was just then.

Frank could hardly keep from laughing, in spite of the gravity of the
situation, for it had a comical side as well as a serious one. He knew
that it was now up to him to get that animal, one way or another; and as
he did not exactly care to board the houseboat while the panther was
hiding behind the cabin, some way must be discovered for enticing the
invader to show himself.

All Frank wanted was just one glimpse of the gray coat of the enemy, and
if at the time he had his gun ready, he knew he could get his work in.
But how might this be done?

Evidently the animal had been hunted before, for he seemed determined to
keep some obstacle between himself and the rifle. And although Bluff had
the reputation of being rather a daring sort of fellow, even he could
not be expected to issue forth, and act as a sort of “toll” for Frank,
luring the panther to show himself.

Some other plan must be adopted; and in this, no doubt the chums inside
the cabin could assist. They were on the ground; while Jerry, lodged in
the tree, and being without a single weapon, could not be expected to do
anything but offer advice.

Back and forth Frank paddled, keeping a close watch on the cabin; but
evidently the wary animal knew his location; for it kept out of sight.
Jerry shouted that it was in plain view from his side, once when Frank
was around on the other quarter, and loudly bemoaned the fact that he
had no gun.

The tree and houseboat were really in collision at this time, and
floating down the current together. Frank was afraid to go around to the
other side again, lest the beast take a sudden notion to once more
plunge among the branches of the tree where the poor fugitives were
hanging, watching this strange battle, with a boy’s wits matched against
the cunning of the smartest beast that roams the American forest.

When this had gone on for some little time, Frank began to get provoked.
Surely there must be some way of getting the beast to show itself; and
in this emergency Frank turned to his knowledge of woodcraft to help him
out.




CHAPTER XXII—WHO WAS BOSS


“Ahoy! there, Bluff!”

Frank put both hands to his mouth, using them in lieu of a speaking
trumpet; for really the children were making so much racket close by,
that it was a difficult thing to be heard.

“What is it, Frank?” shouted a voice from one of the cabin windows on
that quarter of the boat.

“You must scare the cat around to this side, so I can get a crack at
him!” continued Frank.

“Sure! I understand that; but how can I do it?” demanded the willing
Bluff; and had Frank suggested that he creep out, and make faces around
the corner of the cabin at the panther, the reckless fellow would
probably have agreed; for he placed the greatest dependence possible on
his chum’s ability to shoot straight.

But, of course, Frank had not the slightest intention of placing the
life of a chum in peril, when there were other means at hand for
inducing the panther to whip around the cabin.

“Got your gun handy, Bluff?” continued the boy in the dinghy.

“Right here; and only waiting for a chance to give him every charge it
holds, Frank,” came the ready reply.

“Well, hold on till I get just where I want to be,” continued the other.
“Then, when you hear me give a whoop, bang away several times out of the
windows on the _other side_ of the cabin. And the rest of you in there,
yell for all you’re worth. That ought to fetch him.”

Frank knew that an animal can only grasp one idea at a time. In its
sudden alarm the panther would undoubtedly forget all about its cause
for vigilance with regard to the human being in the boat, and the
chances were strongly in favor of its rushing around to the side of the
cabin that was free from the new disturbance.

So Frank, using his paddle once more, manipulated the little boat until
he had placed it just where he wished, and in a position for a clear
shot, should his artful plan succeed.

Then, as he grasped his ready rifle, he gave the promised whoop.

The family in the treetop must have discovered that the crisis had
arrived in their fortunes, for even the two children temporarily stopped
shrieking; and were eagerly watching the boy in the little boat.

Immediately a tremendous racket broke out on the other side of the
houseboat. A gun was discharged several times. There was also loud yells
from three voices, even old Luther joining in with vigor.

Frank swung his gun up to his shoulder, and his eye glanced along the
shining barrel. He could give a pretty accurate guess as to the exact
spot where the panther must show up; and he was covering that place.

Just as he expected, the alarmed beast, forgetting its former design of
keeping away from the enemy in the cockleshell of a boat that danced on
the heaving water of the Mississippi, came leaping around the corner of
the cabin. Possibly it had taken a sudden notion to return once more to
its former perch among the lower limbs of the floating tree; since the
houseboat did not seem to be such a desirable location after all, with
all those noises so close by.

Frank did not wait to find out. He had no idea of troubling the panther
by asking its intentions. The opportunity for which he had been waiting
so long was now within his grasp; and as quickly as he could properly
aim at the beast his finger only too eagerly pressed the trigger.

There was a single report, not at all like the crash of Bluff’s heavy
shotgun. Immediately a shout broke forth from within the cabin, showing
that no sooner had those in hiding carried out their part of the
proceedings, than they jumped over to the other windows to see what
would happen.

“You got him that time, Frank!” Bluff was heard to whoop.

“Oh! and this wire mesh prevented me from snapping him decently; I’m
sure it won’t be even a halfway good picture!” echoed Will.

“Bully boy!” shouted Jerry, from the branches of the tree.

Frank was satisfied, for he saw the beast kicking his last on the deck
of the houseboat which he had boarded, and taken full possession of, in
such a bold and unheard-of manner.

Then, a couple of seconds later, the door of the cabin burst open, to
allow Bluff to rush upon the deck, carrying his weapon; and evidently
only wishing that some power would give the cat the balance of its nine
lives, so that it might regain its feet, and make it necessary for him
to pour in a volley at close quarters.

But even as he arrived upon the scene it seemed to become still.

“It’s dead, Frank!” cried Bluff, in what seemed to be a disappointed
voice.

“Glad to hear it,” returned the other, as he dropped his gun, and took
to the paddle once more; for he knew that they must get the wretched
fugitives of the flood out of the treetop before it separated from the
houseboat.

“Hand down the woman first, and then the children,” he said to the man,
when he arrived at a place that seemed convenient for the transfer;
“I’ll put them aboard the houseboat, and then come back for you.”

By using great care, he managed to get them in the small dinghy, and
paddled over to the larger craft. Those on board assisted them on deck,
after which Frank, after handing up his rifle, to be rid of it, went
back for the man and Jerry.

When they too had been safely transferred, Frank insisted that they
separate the tree from the _Pot Luck_, so that they could move along
faster. Will was busy with his camera about this time, determined to get
as much of the affair on the records as possible.

Once the boat floated free from the slower moving tree, Frank set Jerry
to work getting something to eat for the hungry fugitives, who had been
made as comfortable as some blankets in the cabin could accomplish. The
children had brightened up with the improved look of things. They
watched Jerry working at the stove, and a smile of anticipation came
over their childish faces as they had a scent of cooking bacon and
boiling coffee.

Meanwhile Frank and Bluff and Luther Snow were examining the dead
panther.

“Bigger than any we ever saw before; isn’t it, Frank?” asked Bluff, as
he turned the beast over, to see where the fatal bullet had entered
behind the foreleg, just as Frank had intended when he fired.

“I never saw a larger, if you want my opinion, lads,” remarked Luther
Snow; “and I certainly have shot a round dozen of the animals in my
time.”

“We must try and keep the pelt, Frank,” observed Will. “It will make a
great addition to our collection; and as a mat, with the head on, it’d
look fine.”

Frank, upon asking the man about the misfortune that had befallen him,
learned of the terrible nature of the flood that had taken the residents
of the country up one of the Mississippi’s tributaries by surprise.
Their house was washed away during the night; and with the coming of
dawn they found themselves floating down the swollen river, and out upon
the great Mississippi.

When later on they discovered, as they clung to the roof of the
building, that it was slowly but surely going to pieces, they hastened
to climb into the treetop, as it came along, just as though sent by a
kind Providence.

Hardly had the exchange been made than their house went to pieces. And
then the alarming discovery was made that they were not the only
passengers aboard this novel craft; for one of the children shrieked out
that a great cat lay along one of the big lower limbs, watching them
with yellow eyes.

What that man and his wife suffered during all the time that elapsed
before assistance came, with the gradual approach of the houseboat on
the scene, can only be imagined, not described. He had no weapon save a
pocket knife. This he had held open in his hand, determined to stand
between the hungry panther and his dear ones, should the worst happen.

They told Frank that they had lost all of their possessions, save the
land itself, by the coming of this cloudburst; but as they had relatives
in a town down the river a few more miles, if the boys could put them
ashore there, they would be very grateful.

Jerry cooked a double allowance of food, since he felt pity for the
unfortunates, and was anxious to see those hungry children eat their
fill, for once. They did not look as though they had seen much else than
hominy, three times a day, and scant allowances even at that.

Keeping in as close to the shore as seemed wise, Frank, an hour or so
later, began to look for signs of the town mentioned. It proved to be
not much of a place, but doubtless to the homeless family the wretched
houses appeared like palaces.

The boys found that they could run in close to shore, and anchor. Then
the skiff came into play again, in ferrying the family to dry land.
Frank was glad that they had had a chance to be of help to those in
distress. He would have offered to assist the man with a little money,
but the other assured him that he was supplied to some extent; and that
his father lived there, who would gladly take them all in.

And so, after shaking hands all around, they saw the four late
passengers of the floating treetop land; after which the voyage was
resumed.

The incident gave the chums plenty to talk about for the balance of the
day; and as was natural, it seemed to revive various other affairs in
the past, which had come their way. To all of this conversation old
Luther seemed to enjoy listening greatly. He would sit there without
saying a word, and taking it all in; while a queer little smile would
occasionally cross his face, of which the observing Frank could make
nothing.

During the day Frank managed to remove the pelt of his prize, and it was
fastened with nails against the cabin wall, in a place where the sun
could seldom strike it; for skins must always be dried in the shade. And
every time he looked at it, in days to come, doubtless Frank would
always see the strange picture of the flooded river; the houseboat
interlocked with the floating tree; the family and Jerry perched amidst
the branches; and that savage beast owner for the time being of the
gallant _Pot Luck_.




CHAPTER XXIII—LEFT IN THE LURCH


“Are you sure he’s asleep in the cabin?”

Frank asked this question in a low tone, some days after the adventure
with the panther. He and his three chums were loitering on deck at the
time. It was about the middle of the afternoon; and complaining of
feeling sleepy, old Luther had vanished within the cabin.

“Yes, I just went in to get something; and he was snoring on his cot,”
replied Will; “but what’s up, Frank?”

“He’s got something to tell us about the old man,” remarked Jerry. “I’ve
seen him watching Luther when he thought the passenger we’ve had
fastened on us wouldn’t be noticing him. Out with it, old fellow.”

“I’ve made up my mind that his name isn’t Luther Snow at all,” Frank
remarked, in a whisper.

“Then what might it be, Frank?” asked Bluff, casting a quick glance
toward the door of the cabin.

“What would you say to Marcus Stackpole?” queried the other, coolly.

Various exclamations told of the boys’ astonishment.

“How under the sun did you ever jump on to that?” demanded Jerry.

So Frank had to tell them the many reasons he had for believing it to be
the positive truth; and as he talked the others began to see light too.

“That would account for the way he just made us take him on,” said Will.

“Yes,” added Bluff, “even when we made him up a purse, he went on down
the river, and laid for us again, with a yarn about the skipper of a
packet jumping him because his money gave out. Well, we swallowed it
all, like a lot of innocents, for a fact. Frank, honest now, I believe
you’ve hit the truth, and that that little black launch that used to
hover around was his boat.”

“He must have let ’em know someway that his passage was secured, because
I haven’t noticed it around for weeks now,” remarked Jerry, with a nod
of his head.

“But why under the sun do you suppose he wants to be with us on the _Pot
Luck_?” demanded Will.

“That’s what I can’t tell you,” Frank replied. “I only know that he acts
as if he wants to stick to us all the way to New Orleans; and that Uncle
Felix seemed to be afraid he’d do that very same thing. Chances are,
we’ll never know what it all means until we get there, and ask your
uncle to explain.”

“Well, do we carry him there?” asked Bluff.

“I should say not, if we know it,” was the way Jerry vented his opinion.

“And as my uncle impressed it on me that, above all people, I mustn’t
take Marcus Stackpole aboard, I think we ought to get rid of him right
away,” Will declared.

“Yes, that’s easy to say, but how’re we going to do it?” Jerry broke in
with. “The old fellow seems to like it here; yes, and I rather guess
he’s taken something of a fancy to the bunch of us, too. He sticks worse
than a mustard plaster on your back. Talk of Sinbad, and the Old Man of
the Sea; Luther could give ’em points on how to stay right there.”

“Leave it to Frank,” interrupted Will. “He’s got a plan, I’m sure;
haven’t you?”

“Well, here it is in a nutshell,” remarked Frank, smiling at the
confidence the other chum seemed to have in his ability to meet a
situation; “we’ll get to Memphis to-morrow, you see. Thinking that we
mean to put him ashore only at Vicksburg, below, Luther will have no
chance to play sick; so we can work the little racket.”

“Are we in it, too, Frank?” asked Bluff.

“Yes, you and Jerry are to go ashore after we tie up, to get some
things, besides the mail. An hour later you’ll have come back, with your
errands done; but remember you’re not to come aboard, or show
yourselves. Then I’ll recollect something I wanted you to do very much.
Will, at the time, can be deep in some business connected with his
photography, and I can’t send him to hunt you up at the store; so I’ll
ask old Luther to please take the bottle to get filled.”

“That’s dead easy,” muttered Bluff; “he’ll fall into the trap; and after
he’s out of sight Jerry ‘nd I’ll slip aboard, when we part company with
our passenger. Say, I’ll be a little sorry, someway, too; for after all,
he’s not such a bad sort.”

“But, Frank, how will he know what our meaning is?” Will inquired.

“I have all that planned out,” Frank went on. “I’ll give him a note to
hand to Jerry here. When he can’t find him, and discovers that we’ve
left him in the lurch, of course he’ll think to open it. It will be a
few lines written to him, telling that we have found out who he is; and
that as Uncle Felix positively ordered us not to carry Marcus Stackpole
as a passenger, we have had to send him adrift. I’ll enclose a
ten-dollar bill in the letter. That would take him to New Orleans if
he’s really what he claims. That’s to ease my conscience in the matter,
boys.”

“And a good scheme, too!” remarked Bluff.

“It takes Frank to think ’em up; I always said so,” Will added.

They did not dare talk along that line any further, for fear the object
of their conversation would suddenly come out of the cabin, and seeing
them looking so mysterious, scent enough of the truth to keep on his
guard the following day, which would interfere very much with Frank’s
plan.

During the balance of that afternoon and the evening that followed, all
the boys tried hard to appear natural whenever Luther was around. He may
have thought they looked a little queer at times; but at least they gave
him no reason to believe that his secret was known.

It was about ten the next morning that the hawser was made fast to a
wharf at the river front of Memphis; which lies on a sort of bluff, high
above the Mississippi.

The two chums went ashore, with numerous errands to do, that they
declared would take them until noon. Yet in less than one hour later
Frank caught the whistle from the cotton piles on the levee, that told
him Bluff and Jerry were back, “keeping shady” until he could carry out
his part of the little programme.

Will was very busy just then, dabbling in his daylight developing bath,
so that anyone could see it was utterly out of the question for him to
leave, and go on an errand.

Frank carried out his part of the plan very cleverly. And old Luther,
taking the note which Frank had purposely sealed in an envelope, went
ashore, and up toward the city. After he had vanished from view two
skulking figures came aboard, chuckling with delight over the apparent
success of Frank’s plan.

“Get the hawser aboard, and let’s push off,” said Frank, a little
concerned lest Luther should come in sight even then, and demand to be
taken back.

The boys worked with willing hands, and in a short time the _Pot Luck_
was once more afloat, drifting down the wide river, and leaving Memphis
and Luther Snow behind.

Still, none of the boys seemed as jubilant as they had anticipated, in
getting rid of their incubus. The fact was, that Luther had somehow
rather gained a little hold upon their affections, and secretly they
were sorry to have him go. Only for that strange clause in the note of
Uncle Felix they might have allowed him to remain on board the houseboat
until New Orleans was reached, no matter if he were Marcus Stackpole or
not.

Often would they ponder over this strange matter; and it must form the
subject of more than a few earnest talks; yet, not having the key to the
puzzle, they must always confess themselves baffled. As Frank had truly
said, the riddle was not to be solved until they stood face to face with
the gentleman who owned the _Pot Luck_, and they had plied him with
questions.

Often when some darky from the bank would call out a sportive remark,
intended for those aboard the passing houseboat, the boys would look at
each other in a queer way. For the same idea must have flashed into the
mind of each one; and this that it might be the wily Marcus Stackpole
trying a new game upon them, with the idea of once more getting aboard
the _Pot Luck_.

Below Vicksburg they took stock of the time, and found that in all they
had been just seven weeks on the voyage. Another one ought to see them
safely at their journey’s end, if all went well.

Being on a boat that could only drift, there was no chance to attempt
any of the numerous “cutoffs” that began to be met with, every day now.
And so sticking to the big river, they “boomed” along on the flood from
shortly after daylight up to nearly dark, covering scores of miles each
day with the swift flow of the current.

The Southern plantation scenes were of great interest to the boys; and
Will rapidly diminished the number of his film rolls, snapping laughable
pictures of the dusky toilers of the cotton and sugarcane; together with
the numerous broods of pickaninnies that gathered around, every time
they stopped at a little “wood-station,” where certain boats were in the
habit of tying up to load pine cordwood for the boiler.

And one night, when the heavens were cloudy, and there seemed a prospect
of rain at any minute, they had an unexpected surprise that showed how
strangely Fate could manage things.

Frank had tied up a short distance above what looked to be a wood
landing, where some sort of boat was secured. They had arrived rather
late, and the darkness had gathered so quickly that they were not able
to get a good view of this craft, just barely seen through some trees
located on a low point.

Not wishing to be bothered by visitors, and have more or less noise
around until a late hour of the night, they had chosen this way of
avoiding it.

Supper had been prepared, and was long since placed “where it could do
the most good,” as Bluff declared. And the four chums were sitting
around on the deck, enjoying the cool evening breeze; for the day had
been a very hot one, which made the prospect of a storm rather
promising.

Somehow or other the conditions made them speak of that night when they
ran to the fire, and were overtaken by the storm. Imagine the
astonishment of the others when Frank suddenly exclaimed:

“Talking about fires, fellows, seems to me that looks like one right
now, down below the point jutting out, and where we saw that boat tied
up! Wouldn’t it be a funny thing now if history chose to repeat itself,
with the rain coming along, too.”

And looking as he said, the other three lads saw a bright glow beginning
to show; while loud cries arose, that seemed to tell of alarm.




CHAPTER XXIV—RIVALS NO LONGER.


The greatest excitement reigned aboard the houseboat, when it was
realized that while they were talking about their former experience,
here a fire had broken out on board some other boat just below them.

“Shall we go and help put it out, Frank?” asked Bluff, who seemed quite
anxious to have an affirmative reply. “Looks like we’re just bound to be
called on for any little old job along this river. Fire fighters, get
busy!”

“We can’t all go,” said Frank, remembering their former experience; “and
as Jerry was complaining of having hurt his foot on that nail a little
while ago, why, he will have to stay, and watch the boat. The rest come
with me!”

No one thought to question Frank’s authority, because he had long ago
been elected as the chief of the club: and his word was law; though, as
a rule, he tried to make his comrades feel that they had as much voice
in settling ordinary matters as he did.

Bluff and Will jumped ashore after their leader. Jerry grumbled a whole
lot, not at Frank’s decision, but the unfortunate freak of Fate that
made him suffer from stepping on a nail in his bare feet, just when he
wanted to have an equal chance with his chums about going to the help of
those in danger of being burnt out.

Frank and his two companions ran as fast as they could. The bank
happened to be fairly open, so they quickly reached the point of land
that jutted out. Below here there seemed to be some sort of beach, and
over this they could make quick time.

Before now they had discovered that, sure enough, a boat was afire, and
Bluff called out that it seemed to be some sort of shantyboat, too.
Perhaps they imagined they were about to render assistance again to some
poor family, such as the one that had been rescued from the floating
treetop, at the time of the adventure with the savage panther.

“I don’t hear any children hollering, though,” panted Bluff, as he kept
close to Frank’s heels.

“That’s so,” spoke up Will; “but there’s a heap of yelling going on all
the same. Listen to ’em; will you, boys.”

And just then a single voice, filled with excitement, came easily to
their ears:

“It’s gaining on us, Ossie, I tell you! There isn’t enough of a crowd to
keep the flames back. Didn’t I say that gasolene stove’d do us some day?
and it has. The whole thing’s going under!”

“Ossie!” said Will, as they somehow came to a sudden stop.

“Shucks! it’s only _that_ crowd, after all,” remarked Bluff; “let their
boat go up in fire and smoke, for all it matters to us, fellows.”

“Well,” said Frank, who knew the speaker better than Bluff did himself;
“you can both go back, if you feel that way; but these fellows are in a
bad fix; and even if they don’t thank me for lending a hand, I’ve just
_got_ to try and help put that fire out, if I want to look at myself in
a glass without blushing.”

With that he rushed off again. And hearing the patter of two pair of
willing feet close behind him, Frank had to chuckle. Of course neither
Will nor Bluff could be left out when there was anything exciting going
on.

Two minutes later, and they were on the scene. They found a pretty
serious situation, with the flames pouring out from one end of the
houseboat, that must have cost the millionaire father of Oswald
Fredericks some thousands of dollars to outfit.

And the boys, while they seemed to be working desperately in the
endeavor to extinguish the fire, did not go about it in the proper way,
so that their efforts were about as good as wasted.

Frank took in the situation at a glance. He knew that the wind just then
was coming from down the river; and as it was the upper end of the
_Lounger_ that was afire there was some chance to gain the mastery of
the hungry flames.

Seeing a couple of buckets where one of the others had dropped them upon
finding the fire getting too hot for him, Frank stooped over them.
Rapidly he gave his chums directions how to keep these in constant play.
They were to do the dipping into the river, handing the filled buckets
up to him; when he would dash the water on the fire in a certain spot,
until he had overwhelmed its hold there; and be in a condition to move
on a little further.

They worked like beavers. Indeed, once aroused to the work, and
determined to win out, Bluff could not have done better service had it
been the _Pot Luck_ that was in danger of being wiped out.

Again and again did those buckets come into Frank’s hands, and the
contents sprayed over the spluttering fire. It had met with a new enemy
now, and one against which its most desperate efforts seemed to avail
little. System had been brought into the game, a concentration of
energies upon one spot. Ossie and his comrades had doubtless thrown
plenty of water in the time they were laboring; but it had been so
widely scattered that its strength was lost.

Pretty soon Frank found that someone was working side by side with him,
taking full buckets from other hands, and following his example in
casting the water in a particular spot.

It gave him something like a thrill when he realized that this was no
other than Ossie Fredericks himself. For the time being the rivals of
the Mississippi were working side by side, as though the very best of
friends, and animated by a single purpose, which was the saving of the
fine power houseboat from destruction.

After that the fire was quickly gotten under control, though Frank would
not stop in his labor until the very last spark seemed to have been
smothered. As the boat had been fastened with the bow up-stream, all the
damage was away from the motor, and would not amount to so serious a
thing after all. A hundred dollars might cover the bill for repairs; and
doubtless Ossie and his friends could continue their cruise on the
morrow, making out the best way possible, with a partly burned cabin,
until they pulled up in the Crescent City a short time later.

“All out, Frank?” asked the perspiring Bluff.

“Yes, every spark, so far as I can see,” was the reply; “and I guess
we’d better be heading back to our own boat as fast as we can, because I
felt a drop of rain just then, and we’re going to get a deluge pretty
quick now.”

“Hold on, please, Frank!”

It was Ossie himself who said this. He was coming toward them, his
friends following at his heels. Frank had heard them arguing over
something, and he imagined that several of the boys were holding back in
connection with something that Ossie himself seemed determined to do.

“I’d like to shake hands with you, Langdon,” said the millionaire’s son,
as he approached, holding out his now grimy palm. “When you did me a
good turn that other time I acted like a bear, and I’ve been sick about
it ever since. This settles the whole thing. I’ve been foolish to try
and stand out against as fine a fellow as you. The crowd at college that
stood up for you knew what they were doing. I’m ashamed of the way I
acted, and I’m going to ask your pardon right here.”

“Glad to hear you say that you’ve changed your mind about me, Ossie,”
said Frank, as he took the extended olive branch in the shape of
Fredericks’ hand, and gave it a hearty squeeze. “And I hope that when we
go back to college again we’ll be the best of friends. As to the little
job we joined you in this night, why, it’s been a snap for us; eh,
Bluff?”

So Bluff and Will in turn had to take the hand of Ossie. Then the other
called out to his comrades to step up and ratify the new compact of
peace. Perhaps neither Raymond Ellis nor Duke Fletcher liked the way
things were going; but under the conditions they could not hold back. As
for the St. Paul fellow, young Benedict; and the heavy-set chap who
played the part of engineer and general assistant, not having any
particular reason for hating Frank and his chums, they only too gladly
followed suit in shaking hands.

The rain began to come down a little harder, and Frank did not care to
stay longer. So, followed by the good luck wishes of Ossie, and a hope
that they might meet again in New Orleans, to which city he meant to
hasten, now that his boat was badly damaged, the three boys from the
_Pot Luck_ hurried up the bank again.

They did get wet to some extent before gaining the shelter of the cabin;
but to such hardy cruisers that was a small circumstance. Frank would
have taken ten times the amount of soaking for the privilege of winning
over so persistent a rival as Oswald Fredericks had been during the last
year in college, and while upon the Mississippi voyage.

Great was Jerry’s surprise when he heard the story; and his disgust was
sad to see when he realized that he had been cheated out of all this
fun. As for Will, although he professed to having enjoyed the adventure
immensely, still he never referred to it in later days without a regret
that he had not been able to snap a few pictures of himself and chums,
working like volunteer firemen to save the houseboat of their bitter
enemy and rival from destruction.

The _Lounger_ was gone at daylight, from which fact Frank judged that
Ossie must have been exceedingly anxious to get the boat to some place
where it could be repaired quickly, in order that he and his friends
might finish their vacation aboard, before the time came to have it
hauled all the way back to St. Paul; which only a man rolling in money
could afford to have done, Bluff said.

“Well,” remarked Will, when they saw this, after starting forth
themselves; “perhaps after all, it’s better that way. Oil and water
can’t mix very well; and while Ossie was feeling pretty warm toward us
last night, those cronies of his might set his mind against us again.
Why, that Ellis has a hand that feels like a snake, or a cold-toad, when
you take hold of it. I always despise a fellow like that. Seems to me
he’s just made for trickery and cunning.”

Frank thought the same way, but did not express his opinion. Secretly he
too was satisfied that they would not have to see more of the others
during the voyage.

And so they went on, enjoying themselves day by day, meeting such
troubles and difficulties as might arise from time to time with the same
brave spirit that had always been a motto of the Outdoor Chums; and
finally finding themselves safely tied up in a boatyard on the river
front of the great city of the South, that seems to stand at the gateway
of the Mississippi like a sentinel, guarding the entire valley against
some threatening foreign enemy.




CHAPTER XXV—THE FINISH OF THE VOYAGE


“Tell them all to come in!”

A hearty voice uttered these words; and passing through a door, the
three comrades of the houseboat found themselves in the presence of an
elderly gentleman, who sat with a leg bound up, and resting on a chair.
He had a thin face; but it was now wreathed with a genial smile, as he
held out his hand to Will.

“Hello! Nephew Will Milton; glad you’ve arrived, safe and sound; and so
these are your companions I’ve heard so much about, the Outdoor Chums?
Well, after all, I’m beginning to believe the stories that have come to
me about their prowess, and penetration; because in the first place you
four boys have made this long voyage in good shape; look the picture of
health; and last of all, you declined to be humbugged by any slippery
case like Marcus Stackpole; eh?”

The boys looked at each other, too astonished for words; because Will
had never written a single word to his uncle during the entire cruise;
how then could he know anything about their unwelcome guest, who seemed
determined to stick to the houseboat until it arrived in New Orleans,
and whom they had only been able to get rid of through a clever ruse.

“Wonder how I knew about it; eh?” laughed the old gentleman, who had
spent many years of his life in seeking sport under every sun, being a
born Nimrod, as Will had long ago informed them. “Well, I’ll let you
into the secret, boys. I used to get a letter every little while,
written on board the houseboat, which I see you aptly named the _Pot
Luck_. And _he_ wrote them all!”

“But,” exclaimed Will, his eyes wide with surprise, “we don’t understand
it, Uncle Felix. You seemed so bent on not having us let that man aboard
at all; and above everything warned us not to allow him to be there when
we reached New Orleans; and yet you say he was writing to you all the
while?”

“Why, I must have had a dozen letters about your carryings on,”
continued the old sportsman, still laughing at the puzzled looks on
their faces; “and Marcus did you all justice, I’ll wager, for he’s a
good hand at describing things, Marcus is. But all the same, I’m going
to have you tell me everything that happened, from the time you started
out. I’m deeply interested in the voyage you made; and unless I miss my
guess, you’re just the stripe of young heroes the accounts said.”

“But, Uncle, we can’t tell you anything at all until you satisfy our
curiosity,” declared Will, resolutely.

“I suppose that’s only natural,” the gentleman remarked, nodding.

“Why, just look at it yourself, Uncle,” Will went on, as the spokesman
for the four chums, “ever since I got your letter some months back,
while still at college, we’ve been hammering our brains to understand
just what it all meant. We had all sorts of ideas about it. One thought
this Marcus Stackpole must be some bitter enemy of yours, who wanted to
do you an injury.”

“And see here,” demanded Uncle Felix; “which one was it who was always
so positive that I had some valuables secreted somewhere behind the
paneled walls of the cabin, and kept on rapping and tapping every chance
he got, trying to find the treasure trove?”

Jerry turned red, but he stood up manfully before the quizzical eyes of
the old gentleman.

“That was I, sir,” he said, boldly. “I thought it was a good guess,
after reading that letter you wrote our chum, Will. But I gave that up
when we learned that our passenger, Luther Snow, must be the man, Marcus
Stackpole. Because I saw then how silly the thing looked. If there had
been any valuables hidden, and he knew where to find them, he wouldn’t
have stuck to us like he did, but skipped out.”

“That’s correct, I guess, Jerry,” commented Mr. Milton. “And now to lift
the curtain and let you understand what it was all about. Just a little
wager, my boys, between myself and my friend Marcus; who has been my
comrade on many a hunt through African wilds.”

“A wager!” faltered Bluff, weakly, looking at Frank; who smiled, as
though some such idea might have flitted through his mind some time or
other, to be dismissed as out of the question.

“Why, yes,” continued the owner of the houseboat. “We had heard a great
lot of stuff about you four boys. My sister-in-law even took the trouble
to send me some clippings concerning a rescue you made of a balloonist
from the waters of the Mexican Gulf. So Marcus and myself got to
discussing things, and as I had that houseboat up North, I proposed that
I get you four to take a long voyage down the big Mississippi during
your vacation, which was near at hand.”

“And that was something we’ll always thank you for, Uncle!” cried Will;
“because we’ve surely had one of the finest times of our lives.”

“Well, to go on,” continued Mr. Milton, who it was evident was eager to
hear an account of the entire trip from first hands; “one word led to
another, I standing up for my nephew and his chums; and Marcus declaring
that he’d wager a big sum he could hoodwink the whole lot of you.”

“He did, and he didn’t!” broke in Will, just then.

“Finally it was settled that the wager should be along these lines,” Mr.
Milton went on to say; “I was to write the letter I did, and which was
partly dictated by Marcus himself. Then later, he was to meet you on the
trip, and in some way manage to accompany you, in spite of my request
that you take no passengers, and least of all the man called Marcus
Stackpole. If he was aboard the boat when you came into New Orleans,
with or without your knowledge, I was to lose; but if he found himself
unable to get aboard, or stay there to the end after making a lodgment,
Marcus was to admit that he was beaten. That’s the story in a nutshell.”

“Then you must have heard from him, sir,” remarked Frank; “how we
finally left him behind at Memphis, after penetrating his disguise?”

“Yes, he wrote me about it, and here is his letter. Let me read it to
you, for it is really very short; and afterwards you’re to spend hours
telling me everything that happened from the hour you left St. Paul up
to the time you landed here in New Orleans.”

“Agreed, Uncle!” cried the delighted Will.

So Uncle Felix, with many chuckles, as though he thoroughly enjoyed the
affair, especially the way it terminated, opened a crumpled sheet of
paper, and read aloud:

                                  ————

“After all my boasting in previous letters how cleverly I was
hoodwinking those wonderfully smart boys of yours, Felix, blessed if
they didn’t see my lead, and go me one better. Here I am, stranded in
Memphis, with ten dollars thrust into my pocket, and a note telling me
that they are on to my little game, and bidding me good-by. No use
trying to deceive them again, and I own up beaten. They’re a fine, manly
lot of young chaps, and I’ve grown to love them as if they were my own
boys during the time I’ve been watching them. Just now I must chase
across to Chattanooga to settle a matter that had been suddenly thrust
upon me; but if they are still with you in Orleans when I get there, it
will be the greatest pleasure of my life to renew my acquaintance with
Frank, Jerry, Bluff, and not forgetting your nephew Will.

“Your old campmate,


                                                   _“Marcus Stackpole.”_


By this time all the boys wore wide grins, just as though they felt like
shaking hands with each other, in congratulation over the fact that,
after all their narrow escapes, they had in the end caused this friend
of Uncle Felix to lose his wager.

And they were still in the strange old city of the lower Mississippi at
the time Marcus Stackpole, whom they had known as Luther Snow, arrived.
All of them were very glad to meet him again, for, as has been mentioned
more than once, the boys realized that there had been something
attractive about the passenger who came to them in such a singular way.

Many were the laughs that went around, when the story was retold;
especially as Frank related how he set a little trap for Luther, to find
out whether he had ever been a carpenter; because his hands looked too
free from calloused spots, such as might have been expected upon the
palms of one who had to earn his daily bread at carpenter work.

“That’s a good one on you, Marcus,” declared Uncle Felix; “the idea of
you choosing that vocation on the spur of the moment, when you are the
poorest joiner I ever knew. No wonder a sharp lad, like Frank here,
could trip you up. But on the whole, I think you have all enjoyed your
vacation immensely; and you’ll go back to college more than willing to
work because of the good time you’ve had; eh, boys?”

Upon that they were all agreed, and there was no hesitation about
telling Uncle Felix so.

“Perhaps, when your next vacation comes around, we can have something
else hatched up that will give you an equal amount of pleasure,” the
other continued, for it was evident that he had become very fond of Will
and his chums during the week they had been with him.

And the reader may be sure that if fortune is so kind as to allow the
Outdoor Chums further chances to enjoy an adventurous trip like those
they have known in the past it will give us pleasure to write of the
occasion, so that a host of friends may enjoy it with us. Until such
time comes, then, we must say good-by.


                                THE END