The removal of the narrow board admitted light enough to enable me to see all about the room. Next to the door which opened into the hall was another, which I concluded led into a closet. There was no picture of me when I was a small child; and I wondered if Captain Boomsby had invented that fable on the spot. I was not willing to believe it. It would have required too great an exercise of imaginative power for him; and it was not unlikely that he had spent weeks in evolving the brilliant fiction.

I did not expect to be left alone and unguarded for any great length of time. My persecutor knew that I had some enterprise about me, and that I would not tamely submit to my imprisonment. Perhaps he noticed that I wore light shoes, and should not be likely to kick the door down with them, as I might if I had on thick cowhide boots. I picked up the narrow strip of board I had removed from the window; it was very heavy for its size. If I had got a purchase on the door of the room, I could have pried it down; but there was no chance to get hold of it.

Possibly there was something in the closet that would aid me. I opened the door. As I did so, an ugly-looking snake darted out into the room. He coiled himself up in one corner of the room and showed fight, while I fled to the opposite corner.



CHAPTER IX.

A BATTLE WITH THE SERPENT.

I had no idea what the snake was, for I had never seen one of that kind before. I am not particularly afraid of snakes, though they are very disagreeable to me. When I was at work in the field as a farmer, I suppose I never lost an opportunity to kill one that came in my way. But all these were harmless reptiles, and of late years I have not been disposed to meddle with them.

The snake that introduced himself to me so unexpectedly was not more than three feet long. He was of a greenish-brown color, with some yellow on the sides. I had the strip of board I had taken from the window in my hand when the reptile darted out of the closet. I don't think he had any particular intentions, at first, except to get out of his prison, as I had to get out of mine. I could not blame him for anything he had done so far. Like myself, he was a prisoner, and we ought to have been in full sympathy with each other.

I had released his snakeship from one prison, and placed him so much nearer to entire freedom. To this extent I was entitled to his gratitude, though I did not expect much of him. As he darted out of the closet, I sprang from his path into the corner of the room, behind the hall-door. The next instant he was coiled into a round heap. Then he raised his head from the middle of the coil about a foot, as it seemed to me, though it could hardly have been so high.

So far from feeling anything like gratitude for the favor I had done him, the villain made war upon me. Suddenly he made a spring at me; but I had both eyes wide open, and was watching him with the most intense anxiety. As he leaped, I hit him with the stick in my hand; and he fetched up against the wall, on the inside of the closet. I have no doubt his striking against the partition caused some confusion in his ideas: at any rate, he dropped on the floor, and began to wriggle about in such a manner as no decent snake would, unless his ideas were confused.



My curiosity in regard to that identical snake was entirely satisfied, and I made haste to close the closet-door. I felt that I had no further business with that snake. It has taken me some time to tell about this reptile; but I think the villain was not out of the closet more than three seconds; at any rate, it was a very few seconds. He did business with great rapidity. He had lost no time in coming out of his prison, and none in making his attack on me. He had wasted no time in conducting operations; and if I had not had the bit of board in my hand, I am afraid the snake would have got the better of me.

At the time I had no acquaintance with this snake, though he never waits for a formal introduction when he means business. I know now that he was a moccasin. I saw many of them in the woods of Florida. They are as venomous as the rattlesnake, and are even more dreaded by many people, for they give no notice of their intention to strike. In the English books of natural history this snake is called the water viper. The copperhead is one of the same sort.

I felt as happy as the patron saint of Ireland must have felt after he had boxed up the old serpent, and sunk him at the bottom of the lake. I had the enemy where he could not harm me, for it was not possible for him to make his way through the door. I took the precaution to see that there were no holes or cracks through which the snake could again force himself into my unwilling company. I could find no opening of any kind. For the present I felt entirely safe.

Though I did not know anything about the kind of snake I was shut up with, I felt from the beginning that he was poisonous, and that his bite would make an end of me. I had closeted him; and now I had time to consider the situation. I came promptly to the conclusion that he was put into that closet for my benefit. The conspiracy seemed to be almost too crafty for Captain Boomsby; though I knew that he was capable of doing such a thing.

When I had considered this subject for a few minutes, I found my blood boiling with indignation. Before I saw the snake, I was more inclined to regard the whole trick in the light of a practical joke, rather than as a serious matter. It seemed to me just then that my ancient enemy, in his bargain with Carrington, intended to resort to some such device to get rid of me.

I did not intend to spend the night in that attic chamber; and when my blood began to boil, I aimed a blow at one of the panels of the door with the heavy stick in my hand. The thin board that formed this part of the door split under the blow. I followed it up as though I had been chopping wood. The panel shivered under the vigorous assault I made upon it. In a minute, I had a hole through. Inserting my stick in the opening, I pried out the rest of the panel. But the hole was not big enough to admit the passage of my body.

I had hardly succeeded in making a breach in the door, before I heard the most lusty screams in the lower part of the house. I had no difficulty in recognizing the voice of Mrs. Boomsby. She heard the noise of my bombardment, and was calling her husband in her usual affectionate manner. But I was not at all disturbed by the outcry. I was even willing they should bring the police to their assistance. But I did not expect any outside aid would be called in, for that would do the Boomsbys more harm than it would me. In a word, I did not care who came: I intended to break my way out of my prison, all the same.

Placing my stick edgeways in the opening I had made, I had a good leverage, the end of the bar being outside of the stile of the door, and the face of it against the middle piece. I pushed against the end of the lever with all the power I had. The middle stile snapped in the mortise, for the whole door was not more than an inch and a quarter thick. I had broken out the mortise, and the lever went "home." I could no longer apply the implement with effect, and I expected every minute to see the portly form of Captain Boomsby on the stairs, hurrying up to save his prisoner. But I had no fear of him: if he attempted to prevent my departure, I should use the stick as an argument with him, as I had done with the door.

Finding I could no longer use the lever to advantage, I grasped the middle piece of the door with both hands, and gave a desperate pull at it. There were no nails or pins to resist me, and the parts of the door snapped like pipe-stems. I wrenched out the middle piece, and then the other panel. Then I had an opening in the door eighteen inches wide, which was almost enough to permit the passage of my fat foe.

The middle piece and both panels of the upper part of the door lay in many pieces on the floor, in the room, and in the hall. I used all reasonable haste in making my way through the opening I had forced. When I was in the hall, I began to feel good-natured again; for I will not deny that I was mad when I realized my relations with that snake. I did not care a straw for Captain Boomsby. If it came to the worst, I believed I could "handle" him, to use his own choice phrase, with the aid of the stick in my hand. I was determined not to let the piece of hard pine go out of my hands while I remained in the house.

Mrs. Boomsby was still shouting for "Parker Boomsby," for she always called him by his full name when she was excited. I was willing she should shout. I felt quite cool, composed, and pleasant. I was ready to make an orderly retreat from the house. But I had not lost all interest in that snake, which I believed was intended for my executioner. I put my head into the opening I had made in the door. I found I could reach the door of the closet; and with a very hasty movement I threw it wide open.

I wondered whether or not I had killed his snakeship when I poked him back into his prison. The last I had seen of him he was wriggling on the floor, stirring himself up in the most lively manner. But the reptile immediately proved that I had not killed him by darting out into the room as lively as he had done the same thing before. I did not believe it was possible for him to get out through the opening by which I had escaped from my prison; but I was not quite willing to wait to test the question. The villain could crawl like most other snakes with which I was familiar, but he also had a talent for leaping. I considered it wise and prudent to begin my retreat without any delay.

I took a last look at the snake. He had retreated to the corner of the room opposite the closet-door and coiled himself up, with his head in the centre. He kept his eyes fixed on me, or I fancied he did. He looked as ugly as sin itself. He seemed to me to be as near like Captain Boomsby as one pin is like another. They both did business on the same principle. Mentally I bade him an affectionate adieu. So far as I was concerned, he seemed to have none of the serpent's power of fascination, for I had not the slightest inclination to continue gazing at him after I had gratified my curiosity. I descended the upper flight of stairs. The doors of the rooms on this floor were all open, and I saw that the two rear chambers were furnished as bedrooms.

I went into one of these rooms, and seated myself in a chair. Mrs. Boomsby was on the floor below, standing at the head of the stairs, calling for her husband. It has taken me a long time to record the incidents of my escape so far, and my reflections upon them; but when I looked at my watch I found that only eight minutes had elapsed since I consulted it before, at half past five. Probably it was not five minutes from the time I first saw the snake till I was seated in the chair in the room below. The lady of the house had not, therefore, stood a great while in her present position. Her husband had had time enough to come up-stairs since he was first called, but he probably had a customer in the saloon.

As I sat in the chair, I suddenly began to wonder whether snakes had a talent for coming down-stairs. The idea was just a little bit appalling, for I had no desire to meet his snakeship again. Neither the stairs nor the halls were carpeted. If he came down in the usual way, I should be likely to hear him tumbling down the steps. But I rejected this idea; for on further reflection I concluded that a snake would not come down like a man, when there was a better way for one of his habits to accomplish the purpose. Whatever the villain was, if he came down at all, he would take to the stair-rail. I felt sure of this, for it seemed to be the most natural thing for a snake to do.

I could not see how the snake was to get out of the room. I did not think he could crawl up to the opening I had made, for there was nothing for him to fasten to in his ascent. It did not seem to me that he could get out unless he made a flying leap through the opening. I was by no means sure he could not do this; and I did not care to wait for him to experiment on the matter. Just then it occurred to me that I was not the only person liable to be bitten by that snake. As I thought of it, I walked down the stairs. I knew that Mrs. Boomsby had a mortal terror of snakes when I lived with the family.

She confronted me in the hall of the second story.



CHAPTER X.

THE FELLOW IN THE LOCK-UP.

"You abominable wretch!" exclaimed Mrs. Boomsby, placing her arms akimbo, and looking at me with the utmost ferocity, so that between her and the snake I found there was little choice. "What are you a-doin' in my house?"

"Getting out of it, Mrs. Boomsby," I replied, with the good-nature I had been nursing up-stairs for several minutes.

I wondered whether she knew anything about the snake. The bare thought was enough to assure me that she did not. She would no more have permitted the captain, or any other person, to bring the most harmless reptile into the house, than she would have opened her sleeping apartment for the reception of the sea-serpent, in which both she and her husband believed as in the ocean itself.

"What are you a-doin' here? Can't you let us be here no more'n you could in Michigan? Must you pursue us wherever we go?" demanded the lady, putting the matter in an entirely new light to me, for I believed I had always been able and willing to keep away from the Boomsbys.

"I was invited up-stairs to see you," I began.

"Don't tell me that! Do you think I live in the garret?"

"I thought we were going rather high up; but I supposed Captain Boomsby knew where to find you," I replied, smiling as sweetly as though there were no snakes in the Land of Flowers. "But it seems that your husband lured me up there to make a prisoner of me. He locked me into the little room in the rear attic, which he had fitted up for me by screwing boards over the window."

"Don't tell me such a ry-dicerlous story! I don't believe a word on't. Nobody ever could believe a word you say, Sandy Duddleton!"

"You know very well that I was up there; for I heard your husband tell you so. You talked with him about it, and insisted upon seeing me. But I don't wish to dispute about this matter with you, for I don't think you understand all his plans," I replied, moving towards the head of the stairs, while she planted herself before me so as to prevent my going down.

"Don't talk to me, Sandy Duddleton!"

"I won't talk to you if you will get out of my way, and let me out of the house," I replied, trying to get by her.

"What be you go'n' to do with that stick?" she asked, as she placed herself in front of me.

But I saw that she had a reasonable respect for the stick, and she was milder than I had seen her twenty times before. I looked about me to see if there was any other flight of stairs which would take me to the street, or to the back yard, which opened into a lane by the shore of the river. From the lower hall a door opened into the saloon; and this was the way by which I had come up. I stood in the hall with my back to a door, which I concluded must lead to the rear of the house. Without turning around, I opened this door.

"What be you a-doin'?" demanded Mrs. Boomsby, when she saw that she was flanked; for a glance behind me revealed the back stairs. "Parker Boomsby, come right up here, this minute!" she called down the front stairs.

"I won't trouble the captain," I interposed. "I have a word to say to you before I go, Mrs. Boomsby. I don't think you knew there was a snake about three feet long in the room where your husband made me a prisoner."

"A snake!" gasped the lady of the house, starting back with alarm. "I don't believe a word on't!"

But she did believe it, whatever she said.

"Yes, a snake; and I have no doubt he is a poisonous one, put there to bite me, and make an end of me, so that the captain could get possession of the steam-yacht!" I continued, rather vigorously, for I was afraid I should be interrupted by the coming of the captain.

"A snake in this house! a pizen one, too!" groaned Mrs. Boomsby.

"He was put in the closet; and when I opened the door he came out and made a spring at me. I left him in that room."

"Didn't you kill him, Sandy Duddleton? You used to kill snakes."

"I didn't kill this one, though I struck at him. I broke through the door, and, for aught I know, the snake is following me down-stairs," I replied deliberately. "I think you will see him coming down on the stair-rail."

She did not wait to hear any more, but, with a tremendous scream, rushed by me, bolted into the front room, and closed and locked the door behind her. I certainly did not wish the reptile to bite her or her children; but I did not think there was much danger of the villain getting out of the room through the opening I had made in the door.

The scream of the stout lady did not appear to move her husband, who was probably used to this sort of thing. I had put her on her guard in case the snake did work his way out of the room and down the stairs. I had done my duty, and I walked leisurely down to the hall. The door leading into the saloon was still wide open. The uses of this door were many and various. I had been not a little surprised in some of the Southern cities to notice that the drinking-saloons were all closed on Sunday. In some of them not even a cigar could be bought at the hotel on that day.

Doubtless the law was as strict in Jacksonville as elsewhere; but I had noticed that every saloon had a side door for Sunday use. The front door of the house was closed on other days; on Sunday it was left open, as an intimation that the saloon could be reached in that way. I thought of this Sunday rum-selling as I noticed the arrangement of the doors. Of course the police understood it.

I approached the door opening into the saloon, for I heard the voice of my former tyrant. I wanted to assure him that I was happy still, and that he had better look out for the snake before he bit any of his family.

"He never could get out of there in this world!" exclaimed Captain Boomsby, as I was about to enter the saloon.

"Do you think so, Captain Boomsby?" I coolly asked, as I walked into the room.

To my astonishment, the person to whom the Captain's remark appeared to be addressed was Mr. Kirby Cornwood, whom I had left on board of the Sylvania, asleep under the awning. The Floridian was evidently as much astonished to see me as I was to see him.

"We were speaking of a fellow who was arrested last night," said Cornwood, with one of his blandest smiles. "I think he will get out of the lock-up in less than three days; but the keeper of this place remarked that he would never get out in this world. Only a slight difference of opinion."

"I tell you the fellow will never get out; he isn't smart enough in the first place, and the lock-up is stronger than you think for, Mr.—I don't know's I know your name, though I cal'late I have seen you somewhere afore," added Captain Boomsby.

"I reckon you have seen me here before," replied Cornwood, taking his card from his pocket and presenting it to the captain.

"I can't read it without my glasses," said the saloon-keeper, holding the card off at arm's length.

"My name is Kirby Cornwood," added the Floridian.

"Well, Mr. Corngood, do you——"

"My name is Cornwood," interposed the guide.

"I beg your parding, Mr. Cornwool."

"Cornwood," repeated the owner of that name, rather indignantly.

"All right, Mr. Cornwood. Do you want to bet sunthin' that man won't git out within three days?" continued Captain Boomsby.

"I don't care to bet on it; in fact I never bet," replied Mr. Cornwood, glancing at me, as though he expected me to approve this position, which I certainly did, though I said nothing.

"I will bet five dollars agin three the feller gits out in less than three days, Mr. Woodcorn," persisted Captain Boomsby.

I could not see what the captain was driving at, unless it was to vex the Floridian by miscalling his name. I had known him to do the same thing before. If my old tyrant had manifested some surprise at first at seeing me, he seemed to have got over it very quickly. I was very glad indeed to be satisfied that Cornwood had no knowledge of my imprisonment in the attic, as I supposed he had when I entered the saloon. I had employed him, and was then paying him five dollars a day for doing nothing. I did not wish to believe that he was a friend of my ancient enemy.

"Captain Boomsby, I had to break a hole through the door of the room in which you locked me, in order to get out," I said, as soon as I had an opportunity to get in a word.

"Then you must pay for it, for the landlord will charge it to me," said he, promptly.

"I think not; and if it were not for the time it would take, I would complain of you at the police office. I don't know what kind of a snake it was you put into the closet for my benefit; but I think you will find him running about your house by this time," I replied. "I gave Mrs. Boomsby warning of the danger, and she has locked herself into her room."

"What snake, Sandy Duddleton? What you talking about?" demanded the captain. But I could see that he was not a little disturbed by the information.

"You put a poisonous snake into the closet of that room where you locked me in. You expected me to open the door of the closet, and let him out. I did open the closet-door and let him out; but I did not give him a chance to bite me," I continued, rehearsing the facts for the benefit of Cornwood rather than my tyrant.

"What on airth are you talking about, Sandy? I don't know nothin' about no snake," protested Captain Boomsby.

"I think you know all about the snake, and that you put him there for my benefit. I have nothing further to say about the matter, except that the creature is still in your house, and that he will bite one of your children as readily as he would me. I advise you to attend to the matter, and have him killed," I continued, moving toward the door.

"Stop a minute, Sandy," called my persecutor. "What sort of a snake was it?"

"I don't know; I never saw one like it before."

"I guess I know sunthin' about it, arter all," said Captain Boomsby, with a troubled look. "I had a lodger in the house, and he had an attic room. He had a lot of young alligators, rattlesnakes, lizards, and other critters; and I let him put 'em in that room. He screwed the boards over the winder so they couldn't git out. I cal'late this was one of his snakes."

I had no doubt this story was all an invention, but I had no means of showing to the contrary. He begged me to go up-stairs, and help him kill the "varmint;" but I declined to do this, for I was not willing again to make myself the victim of his treachery. The captain called his son Nicholas from the front shop, which was a cigar store, and told him to look out for the bar.

Before he could go up-stairs two black policemen entered the saloon, armed with sticks. Mrs. Boomsby had told them what the matter was, and they had come in to kill the reptile. I left the premises, followed by Cornwood.



CHAPTER XI.

THE HON. PARDON TIFFANY'S WARNING.

I learned the next day, from one of the negro policemen who had been called in, that the snake had got out of the room where I left him, and that he had been found on the stair-rail, a floor below where I had confronted him. My informant told me he had killed him as he was crawling along the rail, on his way down another flight.

"He was only tryin' to git away, sah," added the policeman. "Dey allus run away when dey can, dem moccasins do; but dey spring at folks, and bite when dey git cornered. Awful bad snake, sah. Wuss'n a rattlesnake. Bite kill a man, suah."

When I left the saloon, I walked with Cornwood to the post-office. When we were in the street, he volunteered the opinion that Captain Boomsby was the greatest scoundrel in Jacksonville; and without going into the comparative merits of the question, I was not disposed to dispute the point. Cornwood seemed to feel relieved after he had expressed this opinion, and the subject was dropped.

I had told a colored clerk in the post-office to keep all letters for me until my return, for when we left Jacksonville I could not tell where we were going, and I expected to be back a month sooner. He greeted me very politely when I presented myself at the window, and handed me a large package of letters, secured with a rubber band. I thanked him for his kindness; and I must add that this one and another colored clerk I saw in Charleston, were more polite and gentlemanly than many a white clerk I have encountered in more northern cities.

Though I had received no letters for over two months, I had not failed to write them regularly to Mr. Brickland, and to my father since I had been assured that he was still living. I looked over the package that had been handed to me. There were two from my father. My heart thrilled with emotion when I recognized the handwriting. I thought no more of Captain Boomsby and his snake.

"Will there be anything I can do for you to-day or to-night, Captain Garningham?" asked Cornwood, as I stood looking at the outside of my letters.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Then I think I will sleep on shore, if you have no objection," he added.

"None whatever," I answered; and with the bundle of letters in my hand, I was glad to get rid of him, for he was rather officious, and often interrupted me in my state-room when there was not the least need of it.

Cornwood raised his Panama hat, bowed politely to me, and then hastened out of the building. He had hardly disappeared before the Hon. Mr. Tiffany came into the office. He dropped some letters into the box, and then approached me with a smiling face. All I had seen of this gentleman pleased me very much. My father called him his best friend in the letter of introduction brought to me. For this reason, if for no other, I should have respected and esteemed him; but I was not glad to see him at this moment. I wanted to be alone with my letters.

"Good evening, Captain Alick," said he. "I see you have a large packet of letters, and I won't interrupt you but for a moment. Are you going on board of the steamer now?"

"Yes, sir; I thought I would go on board and read my letters. Two of them are from my father—the first I have received from him for many months," I replied, wishing to have him understand my situation fully.

"I will not keep you from them a moment," he added, considerately. "But I suppose you will not attempt to read them till you go on board?"

"No, sir," I answered, putting the two letters from my father into my breast-pocket, with my most valuable papers, and dropping the others into a side-pocket. "I can't read them very well in the street."

"Then I will walk with you to your boat," continued Mr. Tiffany.

"I shall go to the wharf on which the market is located, and hail the steamer. I have found that is the best place to land."

We left the office, and walked up the street. My companion evidently had something to say to me, and had possibly started to go on board for the purpose of seeing me. I did not feel much interest in anything he might have to say under the circumstances.

"Just before I joined you in the post-office, I saw you with Mr. Cornwood. Pray don't think I wish to meddle impertinently with your affairs, Captain Alick," said Mr. Tiffany; and he seemed to be somewhat embarrassed about saying what he wished to say.

"By no means, sir," I replied, beginning to feel an interest in the conversation; but rather on account of the manner than the matter of what he said.

"Then if you won't take offence, I wish to say that I desire to warn you in regard to this man Cornwood," continued the friend of my father.

"You desire to warn me in regard to Mr. Cornwood!" I exclaimed, stopping short on the sidewalk, so great was my surprise at his words, as well as his manner.

"I beg you will not take any offence at what I say, Captain Alick, for I assure you I have nothing but the best of motives towards you," protested Mr. Tiffany, as we resumed our walk.

"I shall not take offence at anything you say, sir," I answered.

"After the very great service you have rendered me, you must think I am inhuman to be ungrateful to you so soon," continued Mr. Tiffany. "I assure you there is nothing like ingratitude in my heart; and I would wrong myself a thousand times before I would wrong you once."

"I believe every word you say, sir: and it has not even occurred to me to suspect your motives," I replied with energy. "The letter you brought me from my father would cause me to put entire confidence in you; but without that, I should not for an instant suspect you of anything unworthy towards me, or anybody else. When you warned me against Mr. Cornwood, I was surprised on account of something which occurred this afternoon."

"I shall not even ask you what occurred this afternoon; and you may keep your own counsel in regard to Mr. Cornwood. I repeat that I have not the least desire to meddle with your affairs."

"As the best friend of my father, I am sure I should value your advice and counsel very highly."

"I do not often counsel or advise anybody out of my own family, unless I am asked to do so. Here is the market wharf; and I have said all I have to say in regard to Mr. Cornwood. I only desire to warn you to keep your eyes wide open in dealing with him, for I learned from Owen that you have engaged the Florida person for your journey up the river."

"Do you know anything about him, Mr. Tiffany?" I asked, as much surprised to hear that he had nothing more to say as I had been, in the first place, to learn that he had anything to say in regard to the guide.

"I can't say that I do," he replied, with a rather vacant look.

"Why do you warn me against him, then?"

"That is certainly a very pertinent question, Captain Alick. I have no right to say anything against this person, for I know nothing against him. While I will not harm him, I warn you to look out for him."

"I suppose you must have some reason for what you say," I added, as I waved my handkerchief in the direction of the Sylvania, as a signal for a boat.

"Undoubtedly I have some reason for what I say. It may be enough to cause me to suspect him. I have only asked you to look out for him, for I do not feel at liberty to utter a word to his disparagement until I know it is true."

Mr. Tiffany seemed to be very earnest in what he said; but I was disappointed because he did not say more. He had been in Jacksonville a week before he went to St. Augustine; and it was possible that he had seen something of the guide during his stay.

"I see that you are not quite satisfied with what I have said. I cannot blame you for feeling so; but I should blame myself if I said anything more about this man," continued my father's friend. "I make no charge against Cornwood; I only say, as I might if we were facing a strange snake, he may do us harm, and we must look out for ourselves. Really, that is all I can say about the matter."

By this time the port boat had come up to the wharf. Mr. Tiffany bade me good night, and hastened up the pier. I was not satisfied, as he had suggested. He suspected Cornwood of something, but he did not even say what, much less give me the grounds for his suspicion. But I could obtain no more, and went into the boat. In a few minutes I was on the deck of the steamer. My supper was all ready, and I was obliged to attend to it before I looked at my letters.

My state-room was lighted, and I was by myself. At last I was alone with my letters. Washburn was on the forward deck, discussing the condition of the South with Griffin Leeds. I took out the two letters from my father. Both of them were mailed in London, though my father's home was in Shalford, Essex, about fifty miles from the great city. One was postmarked December 15th, and the other January 2d. I opened the one of the earliest date.

It was written immediately after his return to England from India. He had received no letters or intelligence of any kind from me for many months. He had been so worried about me that he could hardly stay to complete his business in India. He found nothing from me on his arrival at his home, nothing at the office of his solicitor, to whom all my letters had been forwarded, in London. He wrote that he found Mr. Carrington had gone to America, and his office was in charge of his confidential clerk.

I understood it all. This clerk must have destroyed all my letters to my father as soon as they reached the office, as he had been instructed to do by his employer. I felt sick at heart when I realized the distress of my father at getting no tidings from me. But since I sailed on this cruise from Detroit, six months before, I had supposed he was dead, and of course I wrote no letters to him.

I took up the second letter, expecting to read more of my father's despair on account of my long silence. I opened it: it was bright and cheerful as the first was gloomy and despondent. He had received my "welcome letter of December 4th," which I had written at Jacksonville, after the discovery of all the details of the conspiracy against me. I had written a full account of the matter, with the history of the voyage up to that date. It was after Colonel Shepard's house had been damaged by fire, and the West India trip had been arranged. I had asked him to write me at Jacksonville, but not to be alarmed if he did not hear from me for some time, for I hardly knew where we were going. He had been amazed at the contents of my letter. The clerk had confessed all to him. I was entirely satisfied with the conclusion of the matter. The rest of the letters were from my friends at the North.



CHAPTER XII.

SUGGESTIONS OF ANOTHER CONSPIRACY.

I felt like a beleaguered general who had just opened communication with his reinforcements, when I again found myself holding intercourse, even by letter, with my father. It seemed as though a new life had begun for me. My father was happy, and so was I. He declared that he should join me as soon as his business would allow him to leave England; and that when he found me, as he should wherever I wandered, he never would leave me again.

My father alluded at considerable length to "his best and truest friend," Mr. Tiffany. He had written to him, and desired him to take an interest in my affairs if he thought I needed any assistance, either with money or counsel. This was a partial explanation of the conduct of Mr. Tiffany; but he was a very strange man because he said nothing to me about his instructions from my father.

Before I had finished reading the rest of my letters, Washburn came into the room; but when he saw I was engaged, he began to retire. I asked him to remain. He was my ever-faithful friend. He had fathomed the conspiracy against me, and I valued his counsel more than that of any other person. He had my fullest confidence, though he never sought to know my business.

I related to him all the incidents of my visit to the city, including a full account of my adventures with the Boomsbys and the other snake. I need not say that he was intensely interested.

"That Boomsby ought to be hung!" he exclaimed, as soon as I had finished my story.

"Perhaps not," I replied, giving the captain's explanation of the presence of the snake in the closet.

"I should like to follow that lodger's history, if Captain Boomsby had any such person in his house, which I do not believe," added the mate. "When I go on shore I will try to find out whether or not he had any lodger, and I think I can get at it."

"It is hardly worth the trouble," I replied.

"I think it is. For months we have been satisfied that this villain means you harm; but we have never been able to prove anything," said Washburn, with energy. "It is time to quit fooling with such matters. If he did not mean to sink the Sylvania for your benefit, he never meant anything in his life; but he explained it away, and everybody that knows anything about it, except you and I, believes that the accident was simply the result of his drunken condition on that morning. It is time to prove some of these things."

"I have no objection to having them proved."

"I will spend all the time I have on shore in this business; and I am—What was that?"

The mate suddenly jumped from his chair, and rushed out of the room by the new door on the port side. I followed him.

"What are you doing at that window?" demanded Washburn, to a man he had collared near the door of the engine-room, for he had pluck enough to pick up a water moccasin, if the occasion required.

I could not make out the man in the darkness; and I did not quite comprehend the reason for his sudden assault on him. All the windows of our state-room were open, for the evening was warm.

"I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Washburn," pleaded the culprit, in whose voice I recognized that of Griffin Leeds.

"You were standing under the open window of the captain's room!" continued the mate, releasing his hold on the waiter when he found he offered no resistance.

"No, sir; I wasn't standing there," replied Griffin, in a meeching tone. "I got asleep on the fo'castle after you went in; and I just waked up. I was just going below to turn in when you came out and got hold of me. That's the whole of it, sir."

"If I ever catch you under an open window again, I will throw you overboard. We don't have anything of that kind on board of this steamer," said the mate, in a very decided tone.

Griffin went below to his quarters under the forecastle, and Washburn followed me into the room. I thought he was a little rough on the new waiter, who had given excellent satisfaction in the forward cabin. I said as much as this to the mate.

"The rascal was listening under that window to the talk between you and me," replied Washburn. "If you agree to have that thing done on board, you are the captain, and I have nothing more to say about it."

"If you are satisfied that he was listening to us, you did just right. But I move to amend by substituting his discharge for throwing him overboard," I replied, laughing. "Do you think the fellow heard what we were saying?"

"I have no doubt of it: he had been there for some time, for I heard a slight noise at that window soon after I came in; and I am confident he had been there ever since. I confess that I do not like the fellow very much, for I have seen him skulking about the deck with a hang-dog look which I don't admire. I have suspected him of something, though I don't know what, since the first day he came on board. While I am in for it, Alick, I might as well add that Cornwood is just such another fellow."

"Cornwood?" I asked, very much surprised, for I had not noticed anything in either the Floridian or the waiter to attract my attention.

"I don't know anything about Cornwood; and I suppose you looked up his record before you engaged him. At any rate, he acts like a snake, in my way of thinking," added the mate, whom none could accuse of covering up anything he believed or thought.

"I did inquire about him in St. Augustine: people thought well of his knowledge and ability, though they agree that he is a brag and a boaster."

"If there were nothing worse than that about him, I should only laugh. But I think he is a snake."

"What makes you think so?"

"I don't know; I only know that I do think so."

"But you are not a fellow to think ill of anybody without some reason for it."

"I have no reason, except his looks and actions," replied the mate. "I make no charges against him, and I can prove nothing; but Cornwood is a fellow that will bear watching."

"That is just what the Hon. Pardon Tiffany took the trouble to tell me this afternoon," I added, relating the particulars of my interview with that gentleman.

"I am glad there is some one besides myself who has an opinion on the subject," said Washburn.

"Cornwood was in Captain Boomsby's rumhole when I came down stairs after the row in the attic," I added, watching the face of my friend to notice the effect of this announcement.

"That's the best place for him; only this fellow will do a piece of treachery better than Boomsby can. Cornwood will not get drunk when he has a heavy job of iniquity on his hands. Boomsby is a wolf: this fellow is a snake. Cornwood reminds me of a kind of reptile they have in these parts, called the small rattlesnake. He is a little fellow, and you can't hear his rattle; but his bite will kill you as quick as that of a five-footer. You can't see or hear him, and the first thing you know you are a dead man. That's Cornwood's style, as I understand him."

"You are rough on him. What you say of him, and what you have done to Griffin, remind me that the two men seemed to have some connection before we engaged either of them," I continued, thinking of the events of that first day in St. Augustine. "Griffin brought off Cornwood in a boat."

"And when you apply to Cornwood for a stewardess, Griffin's wife appears to take the place. But I am bound to say I believe she is a lady," added the mate.

"Then you think we are marching into hot water, do you, Washburn?" I asked with interest.

"I don't say you are: I don't know that you are: only that we had better keep our eyes wide open, as Mr. Tiffany suggests. But it does look to me as though some sort of a storm is brewing."

"But where can the storm possibly come from?"

"From that rumhole in Bay Street which you visited this afternoon. I have heard that Boomsby threatened a dozen times to be the destruction of you. He says you have been the plague of his life; that you have crossed and defeated him so many times that he will be the 'ruination' of you yet. This is out of pure revenge. Besides this, he believes your father is dead, and that, if he can get you out of the way, or bring you into subjection to what he calls his authority, this steamer will come into his possession. I know he is a fool; but he believes all this nonsense."

"Then you mean to suggest—without being able to prove it—that Cornwood is an agent of Captain Boomsby; and that Griffin Leeds is a tool of Cornwood, sent on board to watch me, as well as to wait on the fore-cabin table," I added, putting the various hints into words.

"I don't say it means anything; but that is what it means, if anything," replied Washburn after some hesitation. "Nothing can be proved; and we should not be justified in doing anything on mere suspicion. All we have to do is to keep a close watch on Cornwood and Griffin Leeds."

We agreed to do this, but in such a manner as not to alarm the conspirators, if they were such. I told Washburn then that I had letters from my father, and gave him both of them to read. While he was thus engaged, I began a letter to my father.

"The last one is written in good spirits," said the mate, as he laid the letters on my table. "But isn't it a little strange that you have no letter of later date than last January from your father? I should have supposed there would have been three or four more letters awaiting you; I mean those he must have written in January."

"I think there is nothing strange about that," I replied; but my heart sank within me at the very thought of any more doubts and uncertainties. "I wrote him that the Sylvania was bound to the Bahamas; but I had no idea where we should go next, or how long we should remain at any place to which we might go. I said we expected to return to Jacksonville in February."

"That explains the matter. You did not show me your letter to him," replied the mate. "But we are several days into March, and you ought to hear from your father again very soon."

"I shall expect a letter from him every day until I get one. I don't believe anything more can happen to him or me, for we have had our full share of mishaps."

The mate was turning in for the night, when Buck Lingley brought me a note from Owen, which had just been sent off by a boatman. My cousin had arranged for an excursion to Fort George Island, near the mouth of the St. Johns River, for the next day at ten, if the weather was favorable. He expected about thirty people, and wanted dinner for them. I told Buck to carry the letter to the steward, that he might make his purchases of provisions early in the morning. It was one o'clock when I turned in, after finishing a twelve-page letter to my father.



CHAPTER XIII.

MR. COBBINGTON AND HIS PET RATTLESNAKE.

I turned out the next morning, or rather the same morning, only in season for breakfast. I had put my letter in the mail-box, and it had gone ashore in the first boat at four o'clock. I kept an anchor watch all night in port, which was divided up amongst all hands in the sailing and engineer's department, except myself. Word had been passed from watch to watch to call the steward and a boat's crew at half past three. The boats were hoisted up to the davits at night, and it required some time to get one into the water.

When I went in to breakfast, I found that Washburn had gone ashore in the steward's boat, and had not yet returned. He was the only person on board, besides myself, who had liberty to leave the vessel without my permission, or his, if I was not on board. But the steamer had been put in perfect order the day before, and she never was in better condition than when I looked her over after breakfast. The day was bright and clear, as nearly all the days were in Florida. Every officer and seaman had put on his best uniform, and we were in "show" order, above and below decks.

The American flag was flying at the peak, and, in honor of the English guests who were to come on board, I had hoisted the British flag at the fore. Both boats' crews were in readiness to bring off the party as soon as they appeared on the Market Wharf. About nine o'clock we got a signal from that locality, but there was no party there, and the signal came from the mate.

"You went off early, Washburn," I said, as he came up the gangway steps.

"I was afraid the matter would get cold if I waited," replied the mate, who seemed to be in excellent humor.

"What matter is that?" I inquired.

"I went ashore to look up that snaky lodger of Captain Boomsby's," answered Washburn. "There was certainly a lodger there, who furnished his own room, and stayed about two weeks."

"Did he furnish his room for a stay of only two weeks?" I inquired.

"I have not been able to find the person yet. He had his furniture carried to an auction-room, where it was sold."

"How did you learn all this?"

"I found Boomsby's saloon first. About five o'clock the porter of the store next to it began to sweep off the sidewalk. I saw that my uniform took his eye, and he was as polite to me as though I had been an admiral in the United States Navy. I talked with him awhile, asking him questions about the city. Finally I brought the matter of the conversation down to the subject of saloons. I thought there were plenty of them. He told me some of them had a separate bar for colored people, where they sold the cheapest corn whiskey and apple brandy for ten cents a glass, and made nine cents on every glass they sold."

"That's just the business for Captain Boomsby: it is just mean enough for him," I added.

"The porter spoke of the Boomsby saloon as a new one opened a few weeks before. The keeper had a bar for colored customers in a back room, with an entrance from the lane in the rear. When he said this, I began to pump him in regard to Boomsby. I finally asked if the captain took boarders or lodgers. He had one; but this one had had a quarrel with the saloonist's wife, and had left. He did not know his name, or where he went to. He said the cartman that stood at the next corner had carted off his furniture."

"Then you went for the cartman," I suggested.

"I went for him; but I could not find him for some time, and that is what made me so late," continued Washburn. "The porter told me he was hauling baggage from the Charleston steamer, which had just got in, to the Carlton Hotel. His name was Jackman, and it was on his wagon. I found the cartman, but he was so busy I had no chance to speak to him until half past eight. I took my breakfast at the Carlton, which is kept by Maine people. I introduced myself to one of the proprietors; and of course they knew my father. I told him I had been waiting a long time to speak to Jackman. He immediately called him into the office.

"Thus introduced to Jackman, he was willing to tell me all he knew on any subject. He said he had carried the furniture of the lodger to an auction-room, and his trunks and other things to the St. Johns House. The lodger's name was Cobbington; and Jackman thought he was poor."

"He must have been, to take a room at Captain Boomsby's house."

"I asked Jackman what things besides the trunks he had carried to the St. Johns Hotel. He replied that Cobbington had a pet rattlesnake and a box of alligators."

"All this goes to confirm Captain Boomsby's explanation," I added.

"I think it has a tendency that way. I asked Jackman if the lodger had any other snakes; but he knew of no others, and had seen none in the attic rooms from which he took his load. I went next to the St. Johns House, which is kept by a lady. She gave me all the information she could. Mr. Cobbington's rattlesnake had got out of his box, and had been killed by one of the boarders. He was so angry at the loss of the reptile that he left the house at once. The landlady did not know where he had gone. Under the circumstances, she had not taken the pains to inquire. She did not want any gentleman in her house who kept a rattlesnake in his chamber; and I was of just her way of thinking. She did not remember what cartman had conveyed his baggage from the house. If I had had an hour more, I think I could have found the man; for the landlady gave me the day on which he left."

"I don't think it will be of much use to follow the matter any further," I suggested. "This story makes it probable that Cobbington had other snakes."

"It may make it possible, but not probable. It is only a matter of fact, and I am going to get to the bottom of it if I can," persisted the mate.

"I beg pardon, Mr. Washburn, but your breakfast is waiting for you," said Griffin Leeds, stepping up to the mate at this moment.

I started when I heard the silky voice of the octoroon. I had heard no step to indicate his approach, and I feared that he had listened to something one of us had said.

"I have been to breakfast," replied the mate, rather savagely for him; and I saw that he had the same fear.

The waiter hastened back to the forward cabin, where he belonged. Washburn called to Ben Bowman, who was standing at the door of the engine-room, and asked him how long Griffin had stood behind us. The assistant engineer thought he had been there two or three minutes, at least, waiting for a chance to speak to one of us. I was vexed at the circumstance. If Cornwood was the agent of Captain Boomsby, and Griffin Leeds was the tool of the Floridian, our conversation would all be reported to the principal in the conspiracy, always granting there was any truth in our surmises.

"I suppose we shall get back from this excursion some time to-night," said Washburn, thoughtfully.

"I think we shall get back before dark," I replied.

"I don't say there is anything in what we were talking about last night, but there may be. If there is anything in it, Cornwood will tell Boomsby, after we return, what we have been talking about," replied the mate.

"Griffin will find a chance to tell Cornwood that you have been looking up the lodger, and Cornwood will carry it to Boomsby," I repeated.

"Just so. Now, we must fix things a little. Don't let Cornwood go on shore to-night."

"How can I keep him? He is hardly like the other members of the ship's company."

"You can need him for some purpose or other," suggested the mate, with a smile. "We must fight them with their own weapons."

"I was thinking to-day that I wanted to lay out the trip up the river with him. I bought a large pocket-map of Florida to-day, so that I could do it understandingly, though where we go will depend largely on the will and pleasure of our passengers. I can keep him for this purpose," I said.

"All right; and I will go ashore as soon as the mudhook touches the sand on our return," added Washburn. "There are several carriages coming down Market Wharf."

Both boats were sent to the wharf, and Washburn went off in one of them to superintend the seating of the party in them. All our extra stools and chairs had been arranged on the quarter-deck, forecastle, and hurricane-deck. There were enough of them for twice the number of persons expected, but no one could tell where the party would choose to sit, and there were enough to accommodate them in any one place they might select. Gopher was hard at work getting ready for the dinner, and Ben was expected to help him as soon as the party were on board.

I stood at the gangway, ready to receive the guests. Suddenly a band on the wharf struck up a lively air, and I found we were not to depend upon our own people for the music. The port boat came up first; and our boatmen were so much accustomed to this kind of duty, that they put the passengers on board without delay or inconvenience to them. There were six boat-loads, including the band of twelve pieces. The boats were hoisted up, and the anchor weighed by our steam windlass.

I had been introduced to all the excursionists as they came on board, and I had directed the waiters to show them to such parts of the vessel as they might select. When I went to the pilot-house, I found the seats all occupied by Owen and certain ladies he had invited there. As usual they were all the youngest and prettiest of the party. Cornwood stood at the wheel, as though he had chosen the duty he intended to perform. I had not procured a pilot, for I had been up and down the river five times, and I thought I knew enough about it to pilot the vessel myself. But I wished to test Cornwood's ability, and I told him to go ahead, giving him no further instructions.

He rang the bells correctly, and handled the wheel like an old salt. I was rather disappointed to find that he understood his business perfectly. His brag was not all brag. I had become considerably prejudiced against him by all that had been said; but I felt that I could do him justice. The scenery below the city is very pleasant, to say the least. The orange groves, and the dwellings, many of them occupied by people from the North, either as settlers or as winter residents, made a picturesque view from the river. Cornwood did not seem to be wholly occupied with the wheel, for he explained the nature of the country when he found that the party in the pilot-house were willing to listen to him. The herons, cranes, and many other birds were new to us.

"Mayport on the starboard hand," said the guide, when we had reached the mouth of the river. "The houses in that village are mostly occupied by fishermen, who catch shad and other fish in the winter and spring, and a good many southern people spend the summer here in cottages."

Cornwood directed the head of the steamer towards the other shore, and soon brought her to a pier at Pilot Town.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE EXCURSION TO FORT GEORGE ISLAND.

Fort George Island is certainly a beautiful place for a summer or a winter residence, or for both. It is three and a half miles long, not including the sand-bar at the end, and a mile wide. On one side is the ocean, and on the other the Sisters' Channel, one of the inside passages by which steamers reach Savannah and Fernandina.

Owen told me the party would sail for Jacksonville at four o'clock, and dine as soon as the steamer was under way. All the excursionists landed, and leaving Washburn in charge, I went with them. Cornwood began to discharge his duties as guide as soon as we were on shore; but a considerable portion of the party were familiar with the island, and he did not have a large audience.

"This shell road," said he, as we left the wharf, "is the beginning of Edgewood Avenue, which is two miles and a half long. At the farther end of it is the hotel."

He continued his explanations to those who desired to hear them during the entire walk. I shall not repeat them. I found that he could give the name of every tree, plant, and flower we saw on the way. He had a name for every bird, bug, and worm; and I am ready to acknowledge that the extent, variety, and minuteness of his knowledge astonished me, partly because my prejudice led me to expect nothing of him. That those who brag most know least, did not appear to prove true in his case; for he did not have to "give it up" on any question asked him by the tourists of our party. He related the history of the island, and there was not a single particular concerning it on which he was not fully informed.

After crossing the beach on the shell road, we came to the forest of live-oaks, magnolias, palmettos, bay-trees, and others that one never sees in Maine or Michigan. I walked with Mr. Tiffany, and we agreed that this was one of the most delightful places we had visited. Pretty soon we were joined by Miss Margie and Miss Edith, who had become inseparable friends and companions. I learned that the Tiffanys had already accepted the invitation of Owen and Colonel Shepard to join the party for the up-river trip.

"Are there no snakes on this island, Captain Garningham?" asked Miss Margie, soon after we entered the wood.

"I dare say there are; but I don't know anything about it," I replied.

"Undoubtedly there are snakes on the island," interposed Mr. Cornwood; and I saw that he glanced at me, with a smile, as if in allusion to my experience on the evening before.

"I am very much afraid of snakes," said Miss Margie, looking timidly about her.

"But the snakes are more afraid of you than you are of them, Miss Tiffany," replied Cornwood. "Even the rattlesnake will keep out of your way, if he can."

"And I should surely keep out of his way. Are there rattlesnakes on this island?" asked the timid English maiden.

"I am sorry to say there are; but you might live on the island ten years and never see one. When you walk, you will naturally keep in the paths cut through the woods. Rattlesnakes will not visit these localities. But the rattlesnake is a very gentlemanly fellow; and if by any chance one should stray into a path, he would give you abundant warning before he did you any harm."

"I don't wish to see one," replied Miss Margie, with a shudder.

"You may be sure you will not meet any in the paths we take to-day," added the guide in a comforting tone. "But I would rather meet a dozen of them than step upon a copperhead or a water-moccasin. These will run away when they see you, if they can. The water-moccasin will not trouble you if you let him alone. The only danger from any Florida snake is in coming upon him when you don't see him."

"That is just what I am afraid of," said Miss Margie.

"This island has been settled so long that there can be but few snakes of the harmful kind left on it; for whites and blacks always kill them at sight."

After a very pleasant walk we reached the hotel, where a lunch was ready for us. To me the principal feature of this lunch was the broiled shad, the fish just taken from the water. It was the freshest and best I had ever eaten. The oysters in the chowder were small, but had been taken from the water that morning.

After the lunch the excursionists broke up into little parties, and each went where they were best pleased to go. I felt rather inclined to go where Miss Margie went, for I had found she was as agreeable as she was pretty. Owen and the Shepards went to the Palmetto Avenue, which leads to an ancient homestead, affording a fair specimen of the planter's home in days gone by. Mr. Tiffany and his daughter wished to ascend Mount Cornelia, to which there was a carriage-road all the way from the hotel to the summit. This hill has an elevation of ninety-five feet, the highest point on the coast from Navesink and Cuba. Mr. Cornwood accompanied us, for, in spite of the warning Mr. Tiffany had given me, he was the guide's most attentive listener.

On the summit of the hill we found an observatory, which we occupied for a full hour. It commanded a fine view of the ocean, the inland channels, and the country beyond them. Before we left, Owen and the Shepards joined us.

"Have you seen any snakes, Margie?" asked Edith, when they were seated at the top of the observatory.

"I have not seen one; indeed, I have not thought of the snakes since Mr. Cornwood assured me we should see none," replied Miss Margie.

"I rather like snakes, and I hoped I should see some," added Miss Edith, very bravely.

"I think I could find some for you, Miss Edith," interposed Cornwood.

"No, I thank you. I don't care to go snaking. When I see one I wish to have it without any effort on my part," replied the beautiful girl.

"That is a nice way to get out of it," added Miss Margie. "I believe I should faint away if I came upon one, without any effort on my part."

"You will be likely to see some on your trip up the river, if you go on shore. The largest moccasin I ever saw I killed within the limits of the city of Jacksonville. It was on the way to Moncrief's Spring. Are you fond of alligators?" asked Mr. Cornwood, who also seemed to regard the English girl with much favor.

"I never saw one in my life," answered Miss Margie. "We don't have any such creatures in England. But I have seen pictures of the crocodile, which I dare say is the same thing."

"They are certainly the same sort of reptile, though a crocodile is not an alligator any more than an alligator is a crocodile. They differ in the shape of the head; the lower canine teeth of the crocodile fit into notches between the teeth of the upper jaw, while the alligator's lower teeth fit into cavities in the upper jaw. The alligator has a broader and shorter head than the crocodile. The cayman, found in the East Indies and in tropical South America, is different in some respects from either. But we have both crocodiles and alligators in the more southern of the United States."

"I am sure I don't care whether they are crocodiles or alligators; they are ugly-looking beasts, and I don't want to see any of them," replied Miss Margie.

Mr. Cornwood had evidently "studied up" on alligators; and I was quite interested in his comparison of the different reptiles, for I had supposed they were all alike.

"You can't very well help seeing them when you go up the river, for some of the streams we shall doubtless explore are full of them," added the Floridian.

"Are you not afraid of them?"

"I don't think I ever saw anybody who was afraid of an alligator; they are too common here to alarm any person. But I am surprised that you did not see any alligators in Jacksonville, for thousands of little ones are kept for sale at the curiosity stores, and larger ones are kept for exhibition."

"I didn't happen to see any of them. Are they not dangerous?"

"We do not consider them so. In the earlier days of the State, when alligators eighteen feet in length were occasionally found, they may have attacked men when they caught them in the water. On land they are rather sluggish; but they are right smart in the water. The largest ones we are likely to see will not be over twelve feet long; and you will find ten little ones to one of this size. None of them will meddle even with a child; though if you should lie on the edge of a boat, with a hand or foot in the water, and went to sleep, they might snap at it."

"Ugh!" gasped the pretty maiden, with a shudder.

"You will be so much accustomed to them in a week after we start up the river, that you will not mind them more than you do the flies, and not half so much as you do the mosquitoes," added Mr. Cornwood.

"Are there many mosquitoes where we are going, Mr. Cornwood?" asked Mr. Tiffany.

"Not many at this season of the year, though we may fall into localities where they are very plenty. I shall take the liberty to suggest to Captain Garningham to have a quantity of mosquito netting on board, to provide against these pests," replied the Floridian, glancing from the Englishman to me.

"I will tell the steward to see that the beds and berths are properly protected," I added, glad to have the suggestion in season to save the passengers from annoyance.

Owen and Miss Edith had not paid any attention to Mr. Cornwood's lessons in natural history. Both of them had evidently voted the Floridian a bore. My cousin thought it was time to return to the hotel, where the band was playing for the benefit of the people.

All the party had collected there, and we soon started for the steamer. The band went ahead and played a march, and we kept step to the music. I found that Mr. Cornwood had again attached himself to Miss Margie, to the plain annoyance of that lady's father. I called him away, and dropping to the rear of the procession, I questioned him in regard to the trip up the river. He clearly understood my object in asking these questions at this time, and his answers were crusty, and his manner sulky. I persisted in torturing him till we reached the steamer, though I sacrificed my own pleasure in doing it for Miss Margie's benefit.

It was just four by the clock in the pilot-house when the Sylvania sailed on her return. The dinner was served in the cabin, and Gopher had done his best, as usual. At six Cornwood made a very good landing at the Market Wharf, and our guests departed immediately. I had to thank Washburn for doing one-half of the hand-shaking when they stepped ashore. Cornwood thought he would remain in the city, but I told him I wanted him on board. The mate did not go to the anchorage in the steamer, but stayed ashore.



CHAPTER XV.

A WAR OF WORDS.

Washburn had reported to me that, while I was dining with the passengers in the cabin, Griffin Leeds had gone into the pilot-house and had a short interview with Cornwood. Of course we used the octoroon as a waiter; and even Gopher took a hand at the same occupation, for he liked to hear what the party said about the dinner. Griffin must have taken the time while the waiters were clearing the tables for the last course, or while the gentlemen were amusing themselves with the American custom of making speeches. In either case, it was almost a sin for a waiter to leave his post.

Cornwood was sulky when I said I wanted him. Doubtless he had business on shore, as I had for him on board. I paid him five dollars a day and expenses; and I thought I had the best right to his services.

"Mr. Cornwood, I desire to have you map out a practicable trip up the river for a steamer that draws nine feet of water, with her bunkers full of coal," I began, as I seated myself in my room.

The words were hardly out of my mouth when Hop Tossford came in with a message written on an old envelope, from Owen.

"Come to the Colonel's house at once.

OWEN."

"At once" meant immediately; and I was not a little annoyed by the summons, since it prevented me from carrying out my part of Washburn's little plan.

"I have the cruise all mapped out, Captain Garningham," replied Cornwood, while I was reading the message from my cousin.

He took from his breast-pocket a document, which he handed to me with a stiff bow. On opening it, I found it was a carefully prepared outline of the proposed cruise up the river, with detours in various bays and smaller streams.

"I will examine this at my leisure; for I am called to the house of Colonel Shepard by Mr. Garningham," I continued. "Very likely he desires to give me instructions in regard to the up-river trip. If he does, I wish to see you as soon as I return; and I may not be gone more than an hour."

Cornwood made no reply; but I saw that he was biting his lip. My request was equivalent to an order to remain on board, and he was not exactly in position to set my wishes at defiance. I went ashore as soon as a boat could be dropped into the water, and hastened to the house of the Colonel. Owen said he was very glad to see me; and from the excitement of his manner, I judged that something was in the wind.

"To-morrow will be Saturday," said he, walking up and down the parlor where I had seated myself. "The same party we had to-day, including the Silver Cornet Band, will make a little run up the river, and stop for a while at Mrs. Mitchell's place, if it is practicable, with a dinner at four o'clock."

"It is not practicable——"

"It is not practicable!" exclaimed Owen, stopping in front of me.

"You did not hear me out, my dear charterer of the Sylvania," I replied, amused at the sudden check put upon his enthusiasm. "It is not practicable to run the steamer up to the pier at Mrs. Mitchell's place; but we can land the passengers in the boats. Of course we can go up the river as far as Pilatka, and perhaps farther."

"We don't want to go up to—what's that place you mentioned? I have heard of it before, and it is forty or fifty miles up," added Owen, who had been too busy looking after Miss Edith to pay any attention to the geography of the State.

"The place is Pilatka; and it is seventy-five miles up."

"It would take all day to go to Pilatka; besides, I don't wish to spoil all the fun of the trip we are to take next week. There's a Chinese town or city, where Mrs. What's-her-name lives, about a dozen miles up," continued my cousin.

"A Chinese town? There are no Chinamen of any consequence in Florida."

"No, no! A town with a Chinese name, where the lady that wrote Uncle Tom's Cabin lives," interposed Owen impatiently.

"Mandarin," I added, after I had consulted a pamphlet guide I had picked up in one of the hotels. "It is fifteen miles from here."

"That's the place; and it is just the right distance!" exclaimed Owen. "We will go to Mandarin. By the way, you must have a lunch on board about twelve."

"All this is quite practicable."

"And why can't you take the steamer up to the pier at Mrs. Mitchell's place?" demanded my passenger.

"Because the bottom is too near the top of the water," I replied, laughing at the puzzled expression on my cousin's face.

"Couldn't you have the bottom put farther down for this occasion?" he inquired very seriously.

"Certainly, if you are willing to pay the bills and to wait long enough for the work to be done."

"I don't object to the bills, but we can't wait."

"I see that you have become quite an American traveller; you don't dispute any bills, and you can't wait."

"I can't wait to have a channel dredged out up to that pier, for very likely it would take all day to do it."

"It would take you Britishers three months to do it; Americans would do it in a week."

"I think my uncle, your father, is a Britisher. But I have no time to quarrel with you about that matter now; it will keep. We will be landed at the pier in boats, since you are not willing to accommodate us in any other manner."

"I will arrange the landing so that it shall be satisfactory," I added, thinking of a large barge I had seen at the boat-wharf.

"Then we are all right for to-morrow, are we, Alick?" asked my facetious cousin.

"All right. Whenever you tell me what you want, it shall be done."

"But just now you objected to taking your steamer up to that pier."

"I should have qualified the declaration——"

"Merciful Hotandsplosh!"

"Is that man your idol?"

"You take my breath away with your stunning long words!"

"I won't take your breath away, for you will want it all. I will do all you want when I can," I added.

"How much prettier that sounds than 'qualified the declaration.'"

"I see that I must write out all my speeches in words of not more than four letters, so as to bring them down to the dull brain of a Briton."

"The dull brain of a Briton is good."

"So your friend Hotandsplosh would say."

"I will introduce him to you some time."

"I don't want to know him; he is too slow for me."

"Come, come, Alick; we are quarrelling when we have business to do," said Owen, shaking his shoulders like a vexed child.

"You are quarrelling; I am not. You pick me up on my language as though you were my schoolmaster, and then complain that I am impeding the business of the conference."

"Cut it short! 'Impeding the business of the conference!' That jaw of yours will need to be patched up by a dentist, man!"

"Your jaw does all the mischief; and you are at it again, with your pedagogical——"

"Cut it short! What a word! A young man of high aims ought not to use such a word; and anybody else ought to be hung for it!"

"Still at it!"

"I wish to say something about the run up the river," continued Owen, who was very fond of criticising my language, and would even neglect important business to do it.

"Say it, then."

"Where do we go?"

"Wherever you say."

"Merciful Hotandsplosh! Am I to study up the geography of this State, so as to tell you where to go?" demanded my passenger.

"I will select a route, in consultation——"

"Oh dear!" gasped Owen, throwing himself at full length on a sofa, with his legs hanging over one end of it, as though he were in utter despair.

"I will talk with K-u-r-n-e-l, Colonel, S-h-e-p-a-r-d, Shepard, a-bout the r-o-u-t-e, route."

"Good! Shove it off on the Colonel!" exclaimed Owen. "I know what you say now; and I feel better."

"Perhaps you would like to know where it is possible for us to go," I continued, taking Cornwood's paper from my pocket as Owen sprang to his feet. "Here are some suggestions in regard to where we may go; it was made up by our guide;" and I handed him the paper, which he opened to the fold of the sheet, and turned it over and over.

"Merciful Grand Panjandrum!"

"Another friend of yours!"

"I got him out of an American book; and that accounts for it! Am I to read all this? Tempus fugit. Let it fugit! I should have to be buried in the blue sands of Florida if I read all this;" and he turned it over several times more.

"You would have to be buried in thought for a short time if you read it."

"Let me see, what did you call what's in this paper? Suggestions, was it? If these are only suggestions, what must the real thing be! No, no, Alick! Go where you please; but don't ask me to read that paper. Only give us some shooting and fishing. Don't bother me with any more suggestions."

"You sent for me, and I came."

"I know you did. You are a young lamb, Alick. Now go and put it to the Colonel and Tiffany."

Presently Colonel Shepard's party came into the parlor. They had just arrived at the house, for they had stopped to see some alligators, and to buy Gulf beans and alligator's teeth, ornamented, for watch-charms and other wear. Miss Margie had seen an alligator six feet long, and thought he was very terrible. The baby reptiles she considered "very cunning little pets."

I proceeded at once to talk with Colonel Shepard about the up-river trip. He looked the paper over, but he and Mr. Tiffany were almost as much perplexed over it as Owen had been.

"We must go up the St. Johns to Enterprise, at least, and up the Ocklawaha to Lake Griffin," said the Colonel.

"But the Sylvania draws too much water to go far beyond Pilatka. After we get the anthracite coal out of the bunkers we shall carry up eight feet," I replied.

"Carry up eight feet! You have only two to carry, and an alligator may bite off one of them," shouted Owen, who it seemed had been listening to me, instead of giving attention to Miss Edith's charms, about which she was talking.

"Give heed to my charms, Mr. Garningham!" said Miss Edith.

"That's just what I have done since I first saw you!" exclaimed Owen.

I promised to consult the Floridian, and took my leave.



CHAPTER XVI.

GRIFFIN LEEDS AT A DISCOUNT.

I did not expect that Mr. Cornwood would come on shore after what had passed between him and me, and I did not hurry on board when I left the house of Colonel Shepard. I passed from St. James Square down Laura Street, into Forsyth, on which the St. Johns House was situated. I passed the house several times, looking for Washburn, for I desired to know what success he had had in looking up Mr. Cobbington. I saw nothing of the mate, and I went into Bay Street, only a square from Forsyth.

I looked in every direction for Washburn, but I could not find him, and I was obliged to give up the search. I found my boat's crew on the wharf, watching some negroes opening oysters. It was done in a very clumsy manner, compared with the work of a Providence opener I had seen in New York; and my men were not at all satisfied with the manner it was done, though they had no interest in the job.

"Have you seen Mr. Washburn, Ben?" I asked, as we walked down the wharf.

"Yes, sir; we put him on board half an hour ago," replied the assistant engineer, who preferred to pull a boat rather than be idle.

"That was why I could not find him in the streets of Jacksonville," I added. "Has any one come off from the steamer since I came ashore?"

"No, sir, not a soul," answered Ben, decidedly.

I was glad to hear this, for it assured me that Cornwood had not left the steamer. The Sylvania was anchored on the other side of the main channel, which was near the line of wharves, but not more than a quarter of a mile distant. In a few minutes I was on board. The mate was at supper; and as I had dined within a couple of hours, I did not disturb him. I went to the steward, and gave him directions in regard to the lunch and dinner for the next day. Cornwood was smoking his cigar on the forecastle. I took the precaution to tell him that I wanted to see him in about half an hour or less, that he might not come into my room while I was engaged with Washburn.

I had done some thinking over the matter of eavesdroppers on board. I came to the conclusion that I would have nothing of the kind on board. I had entire confidence in the two engineers, one of whom was the son of my guardian in Montomercy, and the other had sailed with me since the Sylvania had come into my possession. Moses Brickland, the chief, was lying on a sofa in the engine-room. I called Ben, and told them both enough to enable them to understand the situation, and that some of the later additions to our ship's company might be eavesdroppers. I asked them to keep an eye on the open windows of my state-room, and let me know if there were any skulking or loitering near them. Moses seated himself at one door of the engine-room, and Ben at the other. They were on deck, next to the rail, where they could see the windows of my room. There was a skylight in the hurricane-deck overhead, which was always open in this climate when it did not rain. I said nothing about this opening, because I could hear any person's footsteps on the deck over me.

Washburn came on deck soon after I had made this little arrangement. We went into our room by mutual consent, for one had something to say, and the other wanted to hear it. I explained to him what I had done to trap any listener who might want to know what we said. He replied that he had thought of doing something of the kind himself; but he did not care to throw suspicion even upon Griffin Leeds by telling others the true story.

"Well, Washburn, did you find your man?" I asked.

"I am sorry to say I did not," he replied. "But I found where he boarded; and was told he was out, and would not return before nine or ten in the evening. I shall try again early in the morning, before he goes out for the day, for he takes only his breakfast at the house where he lodges."

"Where does he lodge?" I inquired.

Washburn gave me the street and number. It was not in the best part of the city by any means; and the mate inferred that he was not connected with the "first families." But he was none the worse for this. His landlord knew nothing about him, and had made him pay a week's board in advance.

We continued to talk about Cobbington for some time; but we were none the wiser when we got through than when we began. Suddenly we heard a tremendous scuffling overhead. It sounded as though two men or more were engaged in a severe conflict. After the first onslaught was over, the voices of two angry men were heard; and one of them was that of Ben Bowman. Both Washburn and I rushed out of the state-room, he at one door, and I at the other.

When we were able to see the combatants, they were found to be Ben Bowman and Griffin Leeds. Ben had by this time proved that he was the more powerful and efficient of the two, for the octoroon had been pinned, as it were, to the deck, so that he was unable to do anything but kick. The assistant engineer had him by the throat, and the listener's attempts to speak resulted in nothing but a hoarse, choking sound, which it was painful to hear. Griffin's strength was rapidly failing him under the severe treatment of the engineer.



In another minute, all hands were climbing the ladder to the hurricane-deck. I noticed that Cornwood came up from the forecastle over the top of the pilot-house, which I had forbidden any one on board to do, at the beginning of the voyage, to prevent injury to the paint. I concluded that Griffin had come up in the same way. The occasion of the strife was plain enough to me as soon as I discovered who were engaged in it. I felt a little cheap after all the precautions I had taken to prevent being overheard.

"Let him up, Ben," I said, when I thought he had done enough.

The engineer at once relinquished his hold on the octoroon, and stood up. But Griffin did not appear to be able to get up yet. Both of the men were gasping for breath, and neither of them was able to speak for some minutes. As the waiter lay on the deck, I noticed that he wore no shoes, though he had on a pair of woollen socks. I looked about for his shoes. I had not seen Griffin before since I came on board.

"It is plain enough what this affair means," I said to the mate, while we were waiting for Ben to get his breath, and to be able to explain what the occasion of the conflict was.

"It don't need a very long-headed man to explain it," replied the mate. "Griffin has been at the old trick again."

"What is the old trick, Mr. Mate?" demanded Cornwood, rather offensively.

"If you are a sailor, you will call me by my name," replied Washburn, with dignity.

"Excuse me, Mr. Washburn; but I am somewhat interested in one of the parties to this row," added Cornwood, as he glanced at me. "I meant no offence, but I was a little excited by the circumstances. I brought this man on board, and I am anxious to have him do his duty faithfully," answered Cornwood, with what seemed to me to be affected humility, for his eye still flashed, and he was evidently struggling to be calm. "Will you be kind enough to tell me, Mr. Washburn, what the old trick was?"

"Eavesdropping; listening to conversation not intended for him, which was going on in the captain's room," replied the mate, rather warmly.

"It is very strange to me, for I have known the boy for years, and I never heard any of his employers find fault with him before," added Cornwood. "I don't believe there is a better behaved boy in the State than Griffin Leeds. Excuse me for saying so much, which I should not have said if I had not brought the boy on board and recommended him to you."

I had no fault to find with his statement, as long as it was respectful. By this time Ben had got his wind again, and appeared to be ready to explain the reason for the conflict which had created such a sensation on board. All hands were on deck, gathered around the combatants. I was satisfied from the beginning that Ben had not begun the fight, for this was the first time I had ever known him to resort to violence, except when he had been ordered to do so by the mate in two instances, both of them being the expulsion from the vessel of Captain Boomsby.

"Well, how was it, Mr. Bowman?" I asked, calling him by his last name with a handle to it, as I always did in the presence of the ship's company.

"A few minutes before I came upon the hurricane-deck, sir, I thought there was something like motion forward of the foremast. I stood up, but I could not see anything or anybody. But I could not get it out of my head that something was going on there. I spoke to Mr. Brickland about it, and he told me to go up and see what it was."

"Where was Mr. Brickland at that time?" demanded Cornwood.

"Mr. Bowman is answering my question, Mr. Cornwood, and you will not interfere," I interposed, for the Floridian appeared to have taken upon himself the duty of counsel for the octoroon.

"I beg your pardon, captain," replied Cornwood with a deferential bow.

"I went to the ladder on the starboard side, and mounted to this deck. As soon as I got up here, I saw Griffin lying flat on his face, with his right ear at the opening under the sash of the skylight. I slipped off my shoes, and crept as lightly as I could to the place where Griffin lay. I had no idea of attacking him, and only intended to see what he was doing there. As soon as I was satisfied that he was listening to the conversation between you and Mr. Washburn, which I could hear, though I could not tell what you said, I just touched him on the shoulder. I meant to beckon him to come away from the skylight, but he did not give me time to do that. He sprang to his feet, and we all know he is a spry fellow, and pitched into me as though I had tried to murder him."

"You lie!" yelled the octoroon, with a savage oath. "You did try to murder me!"

Griffin leaped from his recumbent position, and, foaming with rage, drew a bowie-knife from his pocket, the long blade of which he threw open with a jerk of his hand. With the knife gleaming in the air, he rushed upon Ben Bowman. He would surely have plunged the blade into his intended victim, if Buck Lingley had not darted upon him as soon as he saw the knife. The deckhand was the stoutest person on board, and he bore the octoroon to the deck in an instant, and wrenched the knife from his grasp.

"Hold on to him a moment, Buck!" I called to him. "Get some line, and tie him hand and foot!"

Hop Tossford sprang to obey my order. He seized the end of a heave-line, and while Buck drew the arms of the waiter behind him, he secured them in this position with the assistance of the mate. This line was only for temporary use; and Hop soon brought a handful of pieces of whale-line from the store-room, and the prisoner was carefully secured. The octoroon struggled to escape, but the mate and Buck held him tight.

"Drop the starboard boat into the water," I continued. "Mr. Washburn, you will deliver him to the police of the city."



CHAPTER XVII.

POOR GRIFF AND HIS COUNSEL.

"Surely, Captain Garningham, you cannot mean to hand the man over to the police for getting into a common brawl," said Cornwood, when I had given my order.

"We don't allow brawls on board this steamer. This is the first one that ever occurred on the decks of this vessel," I replied, debating in my own mind whether or not I should discharge the Floridian, who seemed to be the real culprit, though of course I could not prove that he was the octoroon's principal in the business of eavesdropping.

"But this was simply a misunderstanding between the men; and both of them will be as good friends as ever before morning," pleaded Cornwood. "Mr. Bowman intended to do the boy no harm when he seized hold of him; and poor Griff thought he intended to kill him."

"That's just what I thought," replied the octoroon, who had entirely cooled off.

"But I didn't seize hold of him, as the gentleman says," interposed Ben Bowman. "I did not lay the weight of one hand on him; I only just touched him, as I said before; and I don't want anybody to say I seized hold of him. I didn't do anything of the sort."

"I lay down there and went to sleep, for I have had to work hard to-day. I lay in a hard position, and I suppose it was that which made me dream that somebody had struck me on the head, and was trying to murder me," Griffin explained, in the most humble tones. "I woke, and seeing a man bending over me, I thought the dream was a reality."

"Were you dreaming when you drew the knife, at least five minutes after you were pinned to the deck by Mr. Bowman?" I asked, sternly. "Your story is too thin."

"I was mad, crazy with excitement; I didn't know what I was doing," pleaded "poor Griff." "Don't give me over to the police! I never was before a court for anything in all my life! Forgive me this time, dear Captain!"

I was afraid I might do so if he talked to me long in this strain.

"Take him down to the boat! Obey your order, Mr. Washburn!" I said, with energy. "Take the knife with you, and deliver it to the police."

"Captain Garningham, I beg you to consider that you are doing a very great injustice to this boy, who, I am certain, intended no harm to anybody," interposed Cornwood again.

"I don't believe in the harmless intentions of a man who can draw a bowie-knife on another," I replied; and I had no more doubt of the octoroon's guilt than I had of my own existence.

"I am very sorry indeed that you should take so serious a view of what has proved a harmless affray," added Cornwood. "If you deliver him over to the police, which, as the captain of the vessel, you have a right to do, I suppose his case will be called to-morrow forenoon. I must ask leave of absence to act as his counsel."

I supposed this was said to remind me of the excursion of the next day, the news of which had been circulated from the steward's department. But the excursion made no difference to me; I felt that I had a duty to perform, and I was resolved to perform it, even if the excursion had to be postponed to another day. Griffin Leeds was carried into the boat, and the mate departed for the city with him.

"Now, Mr. Cornwood, I should like to see you in regard to the up-river trip," I said, as soon as the boat had left the steamer. "We leave on Monday."

"If this affair which has just occurred will permit us to do so," added the Floridian, rather stiffly.

"That need not detain us a single day," I replied, decidedly. "We have twice as many hands as we need for this river navigation; and we can spare all that may be needed as witnesses."

"But I have to remain to defend poor Griff, who, I am persuaded, is a victim of circumstances," said Cornwood, who evidently intended to make it plain I was to reap the bitter fruits of my folly in the dissatisfaction of my passengers, as they might not be inclined to stay after they had made up their minds to go.

"Then I shall be obliged to make the trip with a river pilot," I added promptly, for I did not intend that the Floridian should get ahead of me in this business.

The guide bit his lips, as though he did not quite like the situation. He knew enough of Owen Garningham to understand that, after he had made up his mind to start on the up-river trip on Monday, he would be determined to go in the face of all obstacles.

"I can hardly desert the poor fellow in his trouble," sighed Mr. Cornwood.

"That is a question you must decide for yourself," I replied, with as much indifference as I could assume. "It seems to me you make a light matter of a serious assault, and your sympathy is all with the man who committed it. You call him 'poor Griff,' as though he were a persecuted victim, instead of one who had raised his hand with a knife in it against one of the ship's company."

"I have a great regard for that boy, for he saved my life once when I fell overboard and was injured so that I could not swim, and there were three large sharks near the vessel. I should be inhuman to desert him, even if he were as guilty as you seem to think he is," continued the guide; but I was inclined to believe that his explanation was more than half an invention.

"In what court will this man be brought up?" I asked.

"He will be brought before the mayor, as magistrate; and if he considers it a simple assault, he will fine the boy, or send him to prison; if an assault with intent to kill, he will bind him over to a higher court for trial."

"In either case, the matter is likely to be disposed of in season for the excursion to-morrow forenoon. If he is bound over, we can appear, such of us as are required as witnesses, at the proper time," I replied, as off-hand as though I had been a lawyer all my days. "Now we will leave that question, and turn to others of more importance."

"It may be a matter of light importance to have the boy sent off to work with a prison-gang for two or three years, but I don't so regard it," growled Cornwood.

"When a man draws a knife on another, he needs the attention of the courts. You seem to be so accustomed to that sort of thing that you mind nothing about it. Where I come from we don't use knives with that sort of freedom."

"If it were not clearly a misunderstanding on the part of poor Griff, I wouldn't say anything more about it."

"It was no misunderstanding when Griffin leaped to his feet, at least five minutes after the struggle with the engineer, and rushed upon him with a knife. But we will say nothing more about it, anyhow. Colonel Shepard says the party wish to go up the river as far as Sanford and Enterprise, and up the Ocklawaha to Lake Griffin."

"As it seems to be very uncertain whether I go with you or not, I prefer to say nothing about the trip for the present," replied the Floridian, sulkily.

"Very well; then you will consider your engagement at an end," I added, without an instant's hesitation; and already I began to feel some relief at the idea of getting rid of a suspicious person.

My sudden decision did not seem to suit the guide any better than my position in regard to Griffin Leeds. I had risen from my chair at the desk, as though the business was finished, when I gave my decision; and by this time he could believe that I meant all I said.

"There will be time enough to settle this business after the court has met to-morrow morning," said he, with an evident intention of "backing down."

"But my passengers wish to know at once what the plan is, and I desire to procure a pilot for the excursion to-morrow," I replied.

"I will go with you on the excursion, whether I go up the river or not."

"No, you will not. I have no time to fool with you. I shall engage a pilot to-night for the up-river trip, if you cannot go with me," I added, indignantly.

"I think I can go with you; in other words, I will go with you. It is not possible to go up the Ocklawaha in this steamer," said Cornwood, suddenly changing front, somewhat to my regret. "The masts and yards would be carried away by the trees that overhang the stream, and she draws too much water for the Ocklawaha or the upper St. Johns."

"That matter is settled, then, and I will report to Colonel Shepard. Will you explain to me where we can go in this steamer."

The guide became as communicative as ever in a little while, and seemed to have forgotten the little difference which had threatened a serious rupture in our relations. He was as pleasant as though no cloud had passed between us. We discussed the up-river trip, and I made memoranda of what he said till ten o'clock, when we retired. If what he said about his obligations to Griffin Leeds was true, I could not blame him for wishing to stand by the waiter. But a fair statement of his relations, without any of the bullying he had attempted, would have accomplished his wishes better.

When I turned out in the morning, I found the mate had gone ashore. At half-past eight, as requested by the chief of police through Washburn, Ben Bowman and I went on shore to attend the mayor's court. I had started in season to call on Colonel Shepard, to whom I related all the events of the preceding evening, including my interview with the Floridian. The Colonel decided to ask his friend, Colonel Ives, a lawyer of influence, and a Floridian, to attend court with me.

Washburn was on hand in season, and the mayor listened to the testimony. Cornwood had his opportunity to badger the witnesses, and he made the most of it. The magistrate, in spite of the eloquence of the counsel for the defence, chose to regard the offence as a serious assault, and bound the prisoner over for his appearance at a higher court, three weeks hence. This was about the time we expected to be absent up the river, and I saw that the Colonel's friend had managed the case well without saying a word out loud. Cornwood found bail for the culprit, and he was released.