"What sort of weather do you expect next?" I asked.

"The wind will work round to the south-west, and then it will be foggy," replied the pilot, scanning the horizon.

"Can't you go to New Orleans, or remain on board till we meet a steamer for Key West?" I suggested.

"I should be very happy to go to New Orleans with you, for there will be no steamer for Key West for several days. But I am not a pilot for the Mississippi River, and you will have to pay another just the same as though I were not on board."

He named his price, besides expenses; and as it was reasonable, I accepted it at once. My experience the night before, when I found the Sylvania was ten miles from where I supposed she was, made me extremely cautious. I felt entirely competent to take the steamer to the South-east Pass of the Mississippi; but it was evident that Cornwood had obtained control of the Islander, acting as the agent of Colonel Shepard, and that he would not permit the Sylvania to come near her if he could avoid it. Probably the Conch who had acted as her pilot so far would understand the channels of the Tortugas, and could easily take the Islander where I should not care to follow her.

The pilot-boat lay very nearly in our course, and a boat put off from her as we approached. Captain Cayo stopped the steamer when the boat was abreast of her. He jumped upon the rail, and told the oarsmen that he was going to New Orleans.

"Now start her, Mr. Mate," said he to Washburn, as he crawled over the rail to the deck.

"Now Cornwood will believe the pilot has left you," said Captain Cayo. "The Islander is still two miles off, and I don't think her people could see me when I crawled back over the rail."

It was a dead calm on the Gulf of Mexico, and the Sylvania was still making eleven and a half knots an hour. I calculated that we had gained two knots on the Islander, one by taking the shorter course, and one by outsailing her.

"I think we had better keep her more to the southward," said Captain Cayo, after he had taken a survey of the horizon, especially in the southwest, where a pile of clouds seemed to be gathering.

"Why to the southward?" I asked.

"I think the captain of the Islander must see by this time that we are gaining on him, and that it is only a question of three or four hours when we shall overhaul her," replied the pilot. "If I were in his place, I should steer for the Tortugas, and leave you five or ten miles behind by dodging into some shallow channel. By keeping to the southward, we shall be in a better position to head her off."

"I see; and we are almost up with the Tortugas. If we keep to the southward, we shall be right in her course if she attempts to run for those islands."

"Right you are, Captain Alick," added the pilot, as he changed the course to due west. "There is a breeze coming up from the southward, which is quite a regular thing towards night. It will blow fresh for some hours, just about a whole sail breeze. I think you had better get your sails set, for the one that uses the wind first will make the most."

I told the mate to call all hands, and put on every rag of canvas we could set. Before he had the foretopsail shaken out, the breeze came, though it was very light. By the time the rest of the sails were set, it was blowing lively. It was five o'clock in the afternoon, and we were fairly up with the Tortugas, and at least a mile to the southward of the Islander. If she attempted to get in among the islands, she must run across our course, and less than a mile ahead of the Sylvania. We could easily cut her off.

"She can't get in among those islands now without running into us," I said, after I had carefully surveyed the situation.

"That is as true as preaching," added Captain Cayo, laughing, when he saw that the other steamer was checkmated if she had intended to resort to any stratagem to avoid us. "We may as well put the steamer on her course for the South-east Pass."

He suited his action to the words. The wind was freshening, and the log indicated that we were making twelve knots strong. Moses was still crowding on all the steam the boiler would bear, and I am sure the yacht never sailed any faster.

At six I estimated that the Islander was not more than a mile ahead of us, and another hour would wipe out all the difference.

"This wind is good for us in one way, and bad in another," said Captain Cayo, shaking his head after a searching gaze to windward.

"You mean that we are likely to have some fog," I added.

"Not only likely to have a fog, but sure of it. It is miles deep to the southward and westward."

"Of course the Islander will be able to keep out of the way in a fog; and we can't help ourselves," I replied, trying to yield as gracefully as possible to the necessity of giving up our point.

I had hardly uttered the words before the fog swept down upon us. It was very dense, and we could not see a ship's length ahead of us; at about the same time the wind suddenly subsided. We could see nothing of the Islander, and I had no doubt she had already shifted her course to the north or the south.

"The game is all up, Captain Cayo," I said, very mournfully.

"Up for the present," replied the pilot, as he called through the speaking-tube for the engineer to stop the steamer.

Captain Cayo put his head out of one of the front windows of the pilot-house, and listened attentively for several minutes. I understood that he had used the speaking-tube instead of ringing the gong, so that those on board of the Islander should not hear the sound, as they might, it was now so still.

"Go ahead," continued the pilot through the tube. "She has headed to the northward, and we will see what we can do on the same tack."

The pilot headed the Sylvania to the north. I hoped the wind would breeze up again and carry off the fog; but there was no indication of it. Our sails made so much noise, flapping and pounding against the spars, that I was obliged to order all sail taken in. When we had gone an hour on the present course, the pilot ordered the engineer to stop her, as before. Washburn and Ben Bowman were on the top-gallant forecastle, and they listened with all their might. We all did the same, but we could not catch a sound of any kind. If the Islander had been within a mile of us we could have heard the clang of her screw. She had either stopped her engine, or gone off on some other course. We went ahead again, headed to the north-west.

"We might keep this up all night, and not find her," said Captain Cayo, disgusted with the situation.

"What had we better do?" I asked.

"We can't do anything. We can't fight against the fog. Are you sure the Islander will go to New Orleans if we let her alone?"

"I feel reasonably sure of it," I replied. "Captain Blastblow evidently is not engaged in the conspiracy; and I don't believe Cornwood could induce him to disregard the instructions of his owner. His course indicates that he intends to go there, only he seems to be determined to keep out of the way of the Sylvania."

"I have no doubt Cornwood and Nick Boomsby want to go to New Orleans," added the pilot. "I don't see why it won't be just as well to pick them up there as it will be here."

"But they will not allow themselves to be picked up," I answered. "They will get ashore as soon as the Islander reaches New Orleans, whether they get there before or after we do."

"If I wanted to make sure of the rogues, I should get to New Orleans as quickly as I could."

"We should be sure to get there before the Islander," I added.

"So much the better. When you get there, procure a couple of officers, and run back down the river till you meet the other steamer. Throw your officers on board of her, and they will then have no chance to escape. If we wait here all night, the Islander will make the best of her way to her destination, while we are waiting for the fog to clear off, and of course the rogues will put themselves out of sight," said Captain Cayo.

"I think it is the surer way to run for New Orleans. I don't know that we need any officers," I replied. "We can run into the Mississippi, find some place of concealment, and pounce on the Islander when they least suspect our presence."

"I like that plan still better," replied the pilot.

We agreed upon this course, and the Sylvania was headed for the South-east Pass of the Mississippi. We gave her full speed, and on Tuesday afternoon we were off the pass. It was a dull passage. We took a pilot, and as we had no difficulty in crossing the bar, we were soon in the river. The whole region was swamps and lagoons, about as uninteresting as we could expect to find.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE SYLVANIA IN AMBUSH.

As soon as we were in the river, the Mississippi pilot was discharged, and we continued on our voyage up the stream. We did not know by which pass the Islander would come in, and we kept on till daylight in the morning. We then ran up to the shore, which was covered with small trees. The place we had chosen was at a bend of the mighty stream, where we could not be seen until the Islander was close upon us. We made fast to a tree, and sent Hop Tossford ashore to watch at the bend for the approach of the other steamer.

As the water was deep enough for the Islander in whatever part of it she went, I thought she would come within a few yards of our position, as that would lead her up stream by the shortest way. Our passengers had spent their time in the usual manner on the voyage, and one day at sea was very like any other day when the weather was fine. We had passed out of the fog before midnight, and the two days on the Gulf had been as pleasant as possible. Some of them landed on the high bank of the river where we had made fast; but we required them to keep within call.

In the pilot-house we had voted that it was not best to say anything about Cornwood's relations with Nick, and none of the passengers even knew that Nick was on board of the Islander. We simply told them that we had lost the other steamer in the fog, and we were afraid we should miss the Islander in New Orleans if we delayed to look for her in the fog.

The pilot took the spare berth in the fore cabin, and made himself entirely at home on the steamer, as I desired he should. We had arranged our plan for the capture of the Islander when she came up the river; and none of us had any doubts in regard to her coming. Captain Cayo was to have the duty of taking possession of the person of Cornwood, and Buck Lingley was to do the same kindness to Nick. Colonel Shepard was to be close at hand to deal with Captain Blastblow, if he objected to the proceedings.

All the forenoon passed away without a sight of the Islander. We dined, and began to inquire if there was any way by which the Islander could get to New Orleans without passing the point where we had taken position. We could find none she was likely to take. We were beginning to believe our well-laid plan had miscarried, when Ben Bowman, who was on the lookout for the prize, hastened on board with the intelligence that the Islander was within four miles of us.

We had covered our topmasts with green branches to prevent the people on the Islander from suspecting our presence before she turned the bend. A little point covered with trees a short distance below us concealed the hull of the Sylvania, and I was satisfied that she could not be seen by Cornwood before it would be too late to keep out of our way.

"All hands on deck," I said to Washburn, as soon as Ben Bowman had announced the approach of the runaway steamer.

"All on deck, sir, except Ben Bowman," returned the mate, as soon as he had given the call.

The second engineer had returned to the point to observe and report upon the movements of the Islander. He informed me that the steamer seemed to be making the shortest course the bends of the stream would permit, and she was headed for the point behind which the Sylvania was concealed.

I had arranged my plan of operations. Our steamer was headed up the stream, and held by a single hawser leading to the bowsprit-bitts. We had passed the rope around the tree, and made the end fast on board, so that we could let go without any one going on shore to do so. The strong current of the river would carry the steamer's head away from the shore, and we had only to dart out alongside the Islander, and make fast to her. We had rigged out our fenders, so that neither steamer was likely to be damaged by a collision.

Ben Bowman and Buck Lingley were to carry a line on board of the prize, and make fast the instant we came alongside of her. Colonel Shepard was to get on board of the Islander as quick as he could, and give his orders to Captain Blastblow. I did not apprehend any difficulty in carrying out the programme. I was confident that the captain of the runaway vessel would respect the orders of his owner. We had banked our fires in the morning, so that the noise of escaping steam need not warn the Islander of the presence of another steamer. As soon as Ben reported the runaway within four miles, Moses Brickland had caused the fires to be replenished, and he calculated upon having a full head of steam when we were ready to run out from our hiding-place.

In about half an hour from the time the Islander was discovered, Ben Bowman came on board. We could hear the clang of her screw by this time. I stationed Ben at the hawser, and directed him to let go and haul in the rope as quickly as possible when I gave the word. Buck Lingley and Landy Perkins were to help him make quick work of it. Captain Cayo was stationed where he could make a sure thing of the capture of Cornwood as soon as he leaped on board.

Nearer and nearer came the Islander to the point. As soon as she showed her bowsprit beyond it, I was to give the word to cast off. I could see nothing to prevent the success of the elaborate plan we had made, and I was satisfied that Colonel Shepard would be in possession of his steam-yacht within five minutes.

"Let go and haul in!" I called to Ben Bowman, at the hawser.

The assistant engineer did not permit an instant to elapse before he and his two helpers were hauling on the rope with all their might.

The moment I saw that the hawser was running free, I rang the gong to go ahead, with the helm hard a-starboard. I heard the screw turn a couple of times, and then it stopped. I did not quite understand this. The next thing I saw was Moses rushing on the forecastle.

"The propeller is fouled in a root or a rope, Alick!" exclaimed he. "Back her a stroke or two, and it may clear itself."

I rang to back her as he rushed aft to the engine-room. By this time the Islander was fairly abreast of us, and I feared that our elaborate scheme had failed. But we were seventy-five miles from New Orleans, and there was time enough for as lively a race as ever was seen on the "Father of Waters."

I rang again to stop the engine, and then to start it. It went hard, and I heard some snapping near the stern. It was evident that the screw had been fouled in a root, and I was afraid it might have been twisted into the propeller. I stopped the engine again. When I found the screw did not move freely I ran aft, and found Hop Tossford had climbed over the stern with a boat-hook in his hand, and was punching in the direction of the propeller.

"It's a crocodile!" he exclaimed. "There it goes!"

I saw the creature rise to the top of the water. Hop was English, and Englishmen are apt to call all saurians by this name. I should not have expected to see the real alligator so near the salt water, for I had heard that only crocodiles proper lived or thrived in salt water. It may have been one washed out from some bayou by the high water, which was prevailing at this time, or it may have been the real crocodile. I did not stop then to reason about this case in natural history; but as soon as I saw the mangled reptile, which was about ten feet long, on the surface of the water, I hastened to the pilot-house, and started the screw again. This time it moved freely, and I concluded that the saurian had been resting on the blades of the propeller when it began to turn.

By this time the Islander had made about a quarter of a mile, as I judged, against the swift current. But there was now no chance for her to dodge us. Our fires were in excellent condition, for the fireman had been forcing them for twenty minutes.

"A miss hit," said Captain Cayo, coming into the pilot-house, when it was clear that the capture would not come off immediately.

"I suppose that alligator went down to drink when we came up to the bank of the river," I replied. "But he has the worst of it, for the screw has smashed him."

I saw the saurian floating motionless down stream, and the screw had evidently made short work of him.

"I am sorry the rascal interfered with our affair," added the pilot.

"The game is not up yet. We shall have an opportunity to learn which is the faster steamer," I replied.

"The current must be running five or six miles an hour here," said Captain Cayo.

"About five miles an hour is the usual rate of the Mississippi," I answered. "But it runs just as fast for the Islander as it does for the Sylvania."

"That's true; and I doubt if either steamer is making more than six or seven knots an hour."

"The Islander is sheering off from us towards the middle of the river, and that is where she is making her mistake."

"Why so?" asked the pilot.

"Because the current is swifter in the middle of the stream than near the banks, for the friction of the shore has some effect on its flow."

"That is bringing it down to a fine point," said Captain Cayo, laughing, for he was entirely unused to river navigation.

I kept the Sylvania as near the shore as I deemed it prudent to go, while the Islander went in the middle of the river, as if her captain desired to avoid falling into any possible trap. The wind was southerly and quite fresh. I directed the mate to shake out the fore squaresail and the fore topsail. In twenty minutes, by the clock in the pilot-house, we were abreast of the Islander, but half a mile from her, for she was still in the middle of the river. By this time, Captain Blastblow evidently saw his mistake in not setting his squaresails, for the wind was blowing about half a gale.

I put the helm about a half a point nearer to the course of the other steamer. I immediately noticed that her pilot made a corresponding change in her helm. Moses kept an eye on her, and understood the game perfectly. I did not attempt to run any closer to her, for a turn in the river would soon bring the Sylvania alongside of her. If the vessel attempted to go any nearer the shore, she would have to stand out again in order to pass the bend above. In a word, the Islander was cornered.

Captain Blastblow could not help realizing the situation of the steamer he sailed. Too late he sent his men aloft to loose the squaresail. Before they could get the gasket off, I had to port the helm to prevent striking the other steamer. All our hands were in position to do the parts before assigned to them.

I kept a sharp watch upon the actions of the Islander to meet any change in her course. I saw Captain Blastblow in the pilot-house at the wheel. He looked very nervous and disturbed, and I did not wonder at it.

"Sheer off, or you will be afoul of us!" shouted the captain of the runaway steamer.



At the same moment he rang his gong to stop her. I rang mine also the moment I heard the other. Moses was standing by his lever and wheel, and I think the Sylvania was stopped before the Islander. Of course we continued to go ahead under the impulse of the momentum given the two boats.

Very cautiously I put the helm to starboard, and in a moment the two boats touched each other, but without any shock or crash. The two hands assigned to the duty sprang upon the forecastle of the Islander, and made fast the rope they carried to the bowsprit-bitts. At the same instant, Captain Cayo and Buck Lingley leaped into the waist of the steamer. I saw Cornwood and Nick on the hurricane-deck, though they began to make their exit as soon as we came alongside. The pilot knew his men well, and before the Floridian could leave the hurricane-deck, he had taken him rather unceremoniously by the collar.

Buck did not know Nick Boomsby, but the simple fact that he was with Cornwood satisfied him that he was the person he wanted. I saw that Cornwood began to look magnificent, and to show fight, while Nick acted like a sick kitten.

Colonel Shepard hastened to follow the pilot on board, and met Captain Blastblow coming out of the pilot-house to ascertain what the matter was.



CHAPTER XVIII.

HOW NICK BOOMSBY MANAGED HIS CASE.

We had hardly accomplished our introductory work before I saw that both steamers, which we had secured together with a stern as well as a bow line, had been set back by the rapid current, and had begun to drift down the river. I rang for the Sylvania to go ahead, and then called upon Hop Tossford to take the wheel. I did not care to tow the Islander against the swift current. I satisfied myself that the bow and stern lines were properly made fast, and then went on board of the other steamer.

I found that Colonel Shepard was inclined to let his angry passions rise, as he saw Captain Blastblow approaching him, for which I could not very strongly blame him. I had called to him before I went on board of the Islander, and he had come aft to meet me. I suggested that he should put Washburn in charge of the vessel until matters had been explained. He promptly acquiesced, and I sent the mate to the pilot-house of the prize, with instructions to keep her as near the right bank of the river as it was prudent to go, and to direct the wheelman of the Sylvania at the same time.

"Do I understand you to take the command of the Islander out of my hands, Colonel Shepard?" demanded Captain Blastblow, as he heard me instruct Washburn what to do.

"For the present, yes," replied the colonel, decidedly and sternly, as though he intended no more mistakes should be made.

"This is rather sudden, for I haven't the least idea that I have done anything to displease you," replied the captain, struggling to keep his temper.

"What have you been doing with this steamer? What induced you to run away with her? Why have you taken so great pains to keep away from the Sylvania?" asked Colonel Shepard, in a severe tone.

"I have tried to obey my instructions in every particular," replied Captain Blastblow, apparently more in astonishment than in anger.

"Have you had any instruction to run away with my steam-yacht?"

"I certainly had no instructions to run away with her; and I am not aware that I have done anything of that kind," answered the captain.

"There has been some mistake, Colonel Shepard," I interposed. "I think we had better go into the pilot-house and talk it over."

Without making any reply, both of the belligerents followed me forward. I was quite as anxious to ascertain what had become of Cornwood and Nick Boomsby as I was to have Captain Blastblow explain his singular conduct. I found Captain Cayo on the forecastle, holding his prisoner by the collar of his coat, while Nick was in the care of Buck, on the port side of the house on deck. The former seemed disposed to resist, though he was not willing to risk a conflict with his swarthy captor.

"What do you mean by laying hands upon me, you rascal?" demanded Cornwood.

"Don't use any hard words, Cornwood," added the pilot, coolly. "I obey my orders, and don't answer any questions."

"I don't know anything about your orders; and no one had any right to give you any orders to lay hands on me," foamed Cornwood.

The prisoner began to demonstrate rather violently; he made a spring at the throat of the pilot; but the latter was too quick and too strong for him. They clinched together, and then Cornwood went down upon the deck. Captain Cayo put his foot on the chest of the prostrate Floridian, and held him down.

"I think we had better put a rope around this man's arms," said the pilot, without taking his eyes from his prisoner. "That would keep him quiet and well-behaved."

I picked up a piece of line, and handed it to him. He tipped Cornwood as carelessly as though he had been a shark, and proceeded to bind his arms behind him. The Floridian attempted to resist again; but the foot of the pilot pressed more heavily upon him as he did so, and he found it impossible to get upon his feet again.

Captain Cayo drew the arms of the captive up behind him, and quickly fastened them. Then he took him by the collar, and stood him up on his feet. Cornwood looked unutterably scornful at me; and I doubt if he would have made any trouble if I had not been present. Judging by his looks, he appeared to regard me with intense hatred. I had interfered with some of his schemes before, and from the particular attention he bestowed upon me, I came to the conclusion that he considered me the author of his present misfortune.

"Why am I treated in this brutal manner?" demanded Cornwood, turning his gaze from me to Captain Blastblow.

"I don't know anything at all about it," replied the captain. "There are several things I don't understand about this business; but I am willing to be informed."

"I suppose I owe all this to you, Captain Garningham," added Cornwood, giving me a savage look.

"On the contrary, I think you owe it all to yourself," I replied. "If I remember rightly, you were to detain the Islander at Key West. Instead of doing this, she runs out of the harbor as soon as the Sylvania comes in sight."

"It's none of your business, Garningham. Do you own the Islander?"

"I think we had better go into the pilot-house and talk the case over," I added. "We shall soon find out what the matter is."

I led the way, and we seated ourselves in the pilot-house. I had indicated this place because I wanted to hear the explanation of the captain of the Islander.

"Captain Blastblow, your conduct has astonished me," said Colonel Shepard, more calmly than he had spoken at first.

"I am sorry for it, sir, for I have tried to do just as I was instructed," answered the captain, meekly, and apparently as much astonished as his owner. "I know my place, and I always expect to do just what my employer expects of me."

"I did not expect you to run away with my steam-yacht, when all my family were waiting to go in her," added the colonel, becoming more indignant as he rehearsed the incidents of the morning we left Jacksonville.

"But your going in the Islander depended on your business; and when I saw you the morning before we sailed, you could not tell what you would do. You instructed me to water and provision the vessel, and wait for further orders. Towards evening, you sent off a card by young Boomsby, directing me to have steam up and be ready to sail early in the morning. I was ready to go by six o'clock," answered the captain, taking from his desk in the pilot-house a package of papers, from which he selected the card sent off by Nick. "Is it all straight so far?"

"Entirely: it was just as you say. I received a letter by the afternoon mail, which assured me a business matter would allow me to be absent from New York a month or six weeks longer; and I decided to go up the river with the Sylvania."

"I didn't ask questions, or inquire into your business. All I had to do was to obey the orders of my owner," added Captain Blastblow. "I made sure that everything on board was ready for the voyage before I turned in that night. By half-past five in the morning we had steam enough on to sail down the river. It was about half-past six when your friend, Mr. Boomsby, came——"

"My friend, Mr. Boomsby!" exclaimed the colonel. "I never even saw my friend, Mr. Boomsby, that I know of."

"I only know that you called him your friend yourself," replied Captain Blastblow.

"I called him so! How could I call him so when I had no acquaintance with him?" demanded the owner, with a smile of incredulity.

"I don't know anything about that," continued the captain, fumbling over the papers he had taken from his desk. "I learned to read writing when I was a boy; and that was what you wrote."

"I never wrote anything of the kind, Captain Blastblow. But never mind that: go on with your story," added the colonel.

"I can prove all that I say, sir. Your friend, Mr. Boomsby, as you called him in your letter, came on board about half-past six, and gave me your instructions to proceed to New Orleans as soon as I got the letter."

"I sent you no such letter, Captain Blastblow," protested Colonel Shepard. "I never wrote any such letter; some one has been playing a trick on you."

"But I have the letter in your own handwriting," pleaded the captain. "I will read it to you. It is dated at the St. James Hotel, with a picture of the house, and the heading printed upon it. Here is what it says:—

CAPTAIN BLASTBLOW:

I have received a despatch which will prevent me from leaving Jacksonville for a few days. You will proceed to New Orleans as soon as you get this letter; and I will go there by land with my family. For reasons I will explain to you some other time, I want you to keep out of the way of the Sylvania. I have made a bet that the Islander will get to New Orleans first; and I expect, from what you said, you will win the bet for me. This letter will be delivered to you by my friend, Mr. Boomsby, who will take passage with you; and you will treat him as well as you would me."

Yours truly,

P. G. SHEPARD.

"If those instructions are not as plain talk as any shipmaster could desire, I should like to know what would be plain," continued Captain Blastblow, as he finished the reading of the letter. "I hove up the anchor at once, and rang to go ahead. I was ordered to keep out of the way of the Sylvania, and I have done my best to avoid her."

"But I did not write that letter, Captain Blastblow," repeated the owner; and by this time we were all rather amused at the straightforward earnestness of the captain of the Islander. "Let me see the letter, if you please."

The captain handed him the letter. Colonel Shepard examined it critically. He shook his head as he did so.

"I must acknowledge that the writing looks very much like mine," he said, after he had read it through and examined it in every part. "Who could have written it?"

"Nick Boomsby wrote it, without a doubt," I replied. "I went to school with him, and he was a good penman, though that was about all he was as a scholar."

"Is that my friend, Mr. Boomsby?" asked the colonel, laughing heartily.

"The same person; and he has become a swell of the first magnitude," I replied. "If I had known, or suspected, before we got to Key West, that Nick was on board of her, I could have explained the strange conduct of the Islander, and why she so carefully kept out of our way."

I gave a full account of the robbery of the bank messenger in the saloon of Nick's father, dwelling upon the efforts Nick had made to arrest Buckner. I stated that he had tried to obtain a passage to New Orleans in the Sylvania, that I had refused to let him go in her, and had taken care that he did not become a stowaway on board of her. I added that Nick told me of his intention to run away from his home, and seek his fortune in some other part of the country.

"I have no doubt that Nick stole the four thousand dollars the messenger laid on the counter, and resorted to the trick of forging a letter to Captain Blastblow, so that he could get the Islander off ahead of the Sylvania," I continued.

"But how is it that Cornwood did not stop the Islander at Key West, as it appears he got on board of her there?" asked Colonel Shepard, deeply interested in the narrative.

"I think you will have to ask Cornwood about that," I replied. "I am a Yankee, and I can guess what he meant."

"I don't know that I care about any guessing, Captain Alick; but if you have any theory with a base under it, I should like to hear it," said Colonel Shepard.

"I think Cornwood was well assured that Nick was on board of the Islander when you sent him to intercept the steamer at Key West," I answered. "Cornwood would not have gone on such a wild-goose chase for nothing. According to the testimony of Captain Cayo, Cornwood and Nick had very earnest conversation at Key West."

"I don't think it's any use to speculate over the case," interposed Captain Blastblow. "Let us search for the money."

We all agreed that this was the next thing to do.



CHAPTER XIX.

A SEARCH FOR THE LOST TREASURE.

The two steamers had passed the bend of the river, and we had gone by forts Jackson and St. Philip without a word being said of the historical events which were connected with them. We were too busy with the inquiry before us to give any attention to the surroundings, though I could see that our passengers on board the Sylvania were discussing what they saw on the mighty river. But nothing could have been more uninteresting than the banks of the river near its delta.

It was a season of high water, and the low lands beyond the levee on either side were overflowed. Occasionally we passed a vessel going down the stream, or a powerful skeleton-tug dragging a ship against the rapid current. There was little to be seen besides the muddy flow of the stream all around us, and the fringe of trees that grew on the levee.

If the theory we had advanced, and supported by such evidence as we had, was correct, the four thousand dollars the bank messenger had lost were on board the Islander. If Nick had taken the package, he had not left it behind him when he started out on his travels. We went down into the after-cabin. The captain said Nick had occupied the large state-room on the starboard side, while Cornwood had taken possession of the corresponding one on the port side. We found enough of the effects of each in his state-room to settle the question of his occupancy of the room. Four thousand dollars was a large sum of money, and we did not expect to find it lying around loosely in the room of either.

Captain Blastblow volunteered to examine Cornwood's state-room, while I rendered the same service in that of Nick Boomsby. I found a bundle which contained the runaway's clothing. I searched it thoroughly, but there was no package of any kind in it. I opened all the drawers and lockers in the room with no better success. I tore the bed to pieces and removed the berth sack. The latter was a hair mattress of the best quality. I looked to see if it had been ripped open in any place, and then felt of it in every part, but without discovering anything like a foreign substance in it.

Under the berth, or rather bedstead, was a considerable space, where a trunk or other package could be placed. I lighted the lamp in the state-room, and took it from the gimbals, for it was dark under the bed. I looked and felt in every part of the space, but I had no better success. I examined every hole and corner in the state-room, but found no such package as that for which I was looking.

"I find nothing that looks like money," I said to Colonel Shepard, who was watching the operations with deep interest.

"Blastblow has no better luck in the other state-room. Do you conclude from this fact that you have been mistaken?" inquired the owner of the Islander.

"I do not; I feel morally sure that Nick took that money," I replied, confidently.

"You may be mistaken, Captain Alick," added Colonel Shepard, with a smile. "If he took the package we should be likely to find it in his room."

"I grant that I expected to find it here; or a part of the money in this room, and the rest of it in Cornwood's state-room," I added, rather warmly. "There are other places where the package could have been concealed."

"That is true; but Nick's room was the place where he was most likely to put it."

"I think so myself; but Nick has had the advice of Cornwood since the Islander reached Key West."

"Cornwood is a cunning rogue, I know."

"If we had suspected that Nick was on board the Islander, we might have telegraphed to the police at Key West to arrest him and detain the steamer," I continued. "I am satisfied that Cornwood would not have gone to Key West if he had not expected to find Nick on board of the Islander. At least, he would not have gone without the hundred dollars he asked to pay his expenses in advance."

"Your logic seems to be entirely correct, but the facts so far do not seem to bear out the theory," laughed the colonel. "But I have recovered my steam-yacht, and I am entirely happy over the result so far."

"I have no desire to prove that Nick Boomsby is a thief and a rascal; on the contrary, I should be glad to have him relieved of the suspicion that hangs to him just now. Cornwood may have considered that the state-rooms were the most unsafe places on board of the vessel to conceal the money, and even Nick himself may have come to this conclusion before he had seen Cornwood."

"There is some reason in that," said the colonel. "Everybody in Jacksonville knew that both yachts were bound to New Orleans. Nick may have suspected that he would be charged with the robbery. He is old enough to understand all about the telegraph, and he may have put the money where it was not likely to be found, or if found, might not appear to have any connection with him."

Captain Blastblow had made as thorough a search in the port as I had in the starboard state-room, and had joined us in the cabin while we were talking about the matter. He seemed to fall in with our reasoning, and expressed his satisfaction that he had not been boarded by officers, who might have suspected him of being concerned in the robbery of the bank messenger.

"Cornwood has been on board of the Islander three days now," I said. "Have you seen much of him, Captain Blastblow, during this time?"

"Very little indeed. From the time he came on board Sunday, I think I hardly saw him at all until Monday afternoon. He was in close conversation with Mr. Boomsby most of the time, the steward said to me. The first night they sat up till after midnight; and Lonsdale says there was a good deal of strong talk between them," replied the captain.

"Do you know what it was about?" I asked.

"I haven't the least idea. I inquired how the passengers were getting on, and Lonsdale told me he thought they were in some kind of a quarrel."

"You don't spend any of your time in the cabin, do you, Captain Blastblow?" asked the owner.

"I haven't had time even to come into it on this trip, though I intend to go through it every day, to see that everything is in order. I have had all I could do the last week to look out for the vessel, with two heavy gales and plenty of fog," replied the captain. "I had to make a harbor at Matanzas Inlet, and again at Tavernier's, for I was afraid this little craft would roll her engine out of her."

"We kept on through the whole of it Friday night," I added.

"You were outside of the reef, and you could not make a harbor," retorted Captain Blastblow. "But I got to Key West two hours before you did."

"You did not go to the assistance of a wrecked bark as I did, and land her ship's company in Key West," I replied.

The captain of the Islander wanted to know about the wreck; and at another time I told him all about it. We were too much concerned in verifying our theory in relation to the robbery in Jacksonville to agree to any long digression.

"Is the steward the only person who has been a constant visitor to the cabin?" I asked.

"Gibbs, the waiter, did all the work in the cabin; and he must have seen more of the passengers than even the steward," replied the captain.

"Where is Gibbs?"

"Probably on deck, or asleep in some corner."

"Perhaps we had better call the steward and waiter," suggested Colonel Shepard.

The captain went to the head of the companion-way, and called the steward. Mr. Lonsdale had not spent much time in the cabin, though he slept in one of the berths abaft the state-rooms. He confirmed the statement of the captain that there had been a great deal of earnest conversation between the Floridian and the "young swell." He never listened to private conversation, and he had not the remotest idea what they were talking about. Perhaps Gibbs, the waiter, might know more about the matter than he did.

Gibbs was found to be fast asleep on a sofa in the after part of the cabin. He knew nothing at all about what had happened since the Islander came into the river, and appeared to be not a little surprised when he saw the owner and myself. He was a light Mulatto, a very good-looking fellow, and I judged that he was intelligent.

"Where are the passengers, Gibbs?" asked Captain Blastblow.

"I don't know, sir; somewhere about the vessel, I suppose; most likely asleep in the staterooms," replied the waiter.

"Where do they spend their time when they are below?" continued the captain, in an easy and indifferent tone.

Gibbs answered the question in a very indefinite manner. The passengers were mostly in their state-rooms, on the sofa, or sitting in the chairs.

"Have you noticed them in any particular place in the cabin, except in their state-rooms, in the chairs, or on the sofas?" I asked, with considerable energy, for the waiter seemed to be rather stupid and bewildered, and I thought he needed something to wake him up.

"Yes, sir; I seen them both on the cabin floor this morning," answered Gibbs, with more life in his tones and manner than I had seen before.

"On the floor!" exclaimed Colonel Shepard. "What were they doing on the floor?"

"I don't know, sir. I had cleared away the breakfast-dishes, and went on deck to smoke. I found it a little cool, and I came down again for my coat," replied Gibbs, talking quite glibly now. "As soon as I came down stairs, they got up."

"Where were they at the time?" I inquired.

"Right under the companion-way, sir."

"And you could not tell what they were doing on the floor?"

"No, sir; they were crawling out from under the companion-way when I saw them."

We questioned the steward and the waiter for some time longer, but we got nothing more out of them. We asked the captain to send them on deck, and to direct Captain Cayo and Buck Lingley not to allow any person to communicate with their prisoners.

The companion-way consisted of stairs with steps, but with no risers to obstruct the light from the stern ports. It was not probable that the passengers had secreted the bills forming the package in such a place as this. But we carefully examined every foot of space under the companion-way. We were about to give up the search in this part of the cabin, when I felt something under the carpet, beneath the lower step. I found that a portion of the carpet had been torn up, and I pulled it over. Reaching it again, I felt the package more distinctly; but I was disappointed because it seemed to be too small for the one that had been lost. I drew it out.

"This can't be it," I said. "It is not more than half the size of the one the messenger laid on the counter in the saloon."

"It ought not to be more than half as large," added the colonel. "It appears that there has been some earnest talk among the passengers of the Islander. What could this have been about except the division of the spoils?"

While he was speaking, I had taken off the paper which inclosed the package. It was the same color as that I had seen in the saloon. On removing the covering, I came to the two tin plates, and saw a pile of money, in bills, between them.

"Of course there is only one half of the plunder, and Boomsby divided with Cornwood," said Colonel Shepard.

"Where is the other half?" I asked, blankly.

"I have no doubt this half belongs to my friend Mr. Boomsby; and I have no more doubt Cornwood would have stolen it by the time they got to New Orleans," added the colonel.

We concluded that it would not be as easy to find the second half of the treasure as it had been the first.



CHAPTER XX.

THE THEORY AND THE FACTS.

We spent an hour in searching in every nook and corner of the cabin for the other half of the lost treasure. Cornwood had not been stupid enough to put it under the companion-way; and Nick had been stupid enough to let his companion know where he had hidden his own share. As Colonel Shepard had suggested, it was probable that the Floridian meant to take it before he went on shore at New Orleans. Cornwood had not concealed his share of the treasure in the cabin of the Islander, and we could think of no other place where he was at all likely to deposit it.

"I think he has too long a head to hide his money anywhere," interposed Captain Blastblow. "I should say that any man was a natural fool to hide his money in a vessel, under such circumstances as these fellows came on board of the steamer. In my opinion, he has concealed the money on his person, for you seem to have no doubt that he divided with the young swell."

"That looks very reasonable," added Colonel Shepard. "I think if I had a large sum on board of a vessel, I should provide myself with a money-belt, and keep the treasure in it at all times."

"All we have to do is to search him," said Captain Blastblow. "We shall soon find out whether or not he is a party to the robbery. I suppose there isn't any doubt about the young swell, as the steward called him, and which I think is the best description of him."

"The package, with the two tin plates, precisely answers the description given of it by the man that lost it," I replied. "But I doubt whether we have any right to search Cornwood. We are not officers, and we are now in the State of Louisiana."

"We have as much right to search him as we had to lay hands on him when we came alongside of the Islander," replied Colonel Shepard. "I think we can get at the truth better than any court can. At any rate, he has taken part in stealing my steam-yacht; and I think I have some hold on him. If it turns out that he has not the money on him, I have no doubt I can make it all right with him. I am willing to take the responsibility."

"All right. I will help your man bring him down here, for I think we had better not say anything to Mr. Boomsby until we have settled where the other half of the money is," said Captain Blastblow.

"Bring him down here," replied the colonel.

The captain soon returned with the pilot, having Cornwood between them. The prisoner seemed to be somewhat bewildered, for no charge had yet been preferred against him.

"Mr. Cornwood, you seem to be acting in a different role than that for which I engaged you at St. Augustine," said Colonel Shepard, when the pilot had put his prisoner into a chair.

"It was my intention to place the steamer in your hands by the time you arrived in Key West," replied Cornwood, with dignity.

"You gave me a letter when you came on board the Islander at Key West," said Captain Blastblow, savagely, to the prisoner.

"I gave you the owner's letter," added Cornwood.

"No, you didn't! you gave me this letter," continued the captain, taking a paper from his pocket. "Is this your letter, Colonel Shepard?"

He gave the letter to his owner. The colonel looked at it and laughed.

"This is not so good an imitation of my handwriting as the other letter," he added. "I never wrote a line of this letter. It favors the theory we have adopted, and I will give it to you."

CAPTAIN BLASTBLOW.

DEAR SIR: This letter will be delivered to you by my excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, who has been my companion during my trip to the interior of Florida, and I commend him to your acquaintance and good offices. You will give him a state-room on board of the Islander, for he will make the trip with you to New Orleans. You will continue to avoid the Sylvania, and in all matters relating to the steamer you will take the advice of Mr. Cornwood, in whose fidelity and good judgment I have entire confidence.

Very truly yours,

P. G. SHEPARD.

"My excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood!" exclaimed the colonel. "Did you ever know a man to have so many excellent friends as I have? Why, they are all willing to sacrifice themselves, and take my steam-yacht and run her at my expense, and even without my knowledge."

"You did not write that letter, colonel?" asked Captain Blastblow.

"Of course I did not," replied the owner, warmly. "Why, the writing is quite different from that given to you by my friend, Mr. Boomsby."

"I am afraid I shall not be willing to take any written orders after this, unless the signature is witnessed by some one I know. I am sure I did not think of such a thing as a counterfeit letter. But did you send any letter to me by your excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" asked Captain Blastblow.

"I did send a letter to you by him, instructing you to wait at Key West till my arrival there," replied the colonel.

"Will you give me that letter, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" demanded the captain, addressing the prisoner in a very vigorous manner.

"I gave you the letter I received from Colonel Shepard. I have no other," replied Cornwood, doggedly.

"I don't believe you, when Colonel Shepard says he did not write that letter."

"Do you mean to tell me I lie?" cried Cornwood.

"That's the substance of what I mean," answered the captain, who seemed to hold the prisoner in utter contempt.

"You are a coward, or you would not say that to a man with his arms tied behind him," returned Cornwood, repressing his wrath.

"You invited me to say it, and I said it; and it wouldn't make any difference to me whether your arms were tied or not. But I want the other letter, and I am going to have it. Captain Cayo, we will search him, and then we shall know whether he has it or not," added Captain Blastblow.

The captain and the pilot proceeded at once to execute the threat. Cornwood leaped from his chair, and began to kick at his two persecutors. He was boiling with rage, or with some other passion. But Captain Cayo seized him from behind by the shoulders, and threw him down before he could do any harm. The captain took from his pocket a strong cord he had evidently brought down for the purpose, and while the pilot held him down, tied his ankles together. They then began the search, examining all his pockets first. They found neither the money nor the letter.

"We haven't gone deep enough," said Captain Blastblow, as he thrust his hand into the inside of Cornwood's shirt. The latter seemed to understand what this movement meant, and he renewed his struggles in the most desperate manner.

Captain Cayo put his foot on Cornwood's chest, as he had done when he captured the Floridian, and compelled him to lie quiet. Then he threw up his manacled feet; but I took care of them by sitting down upon his legs. Captain Blastblow then proceeded with his search. He removed a portion of the prisoner's clothing above his trousers, and we could not help seeing the wash-leather belt he wore around his waist. He unbuckled it, and held it up before us.

"Now you may take Mr. Kirby Cornwood on deck," said the captain, in a tone of triumph, as he felt the outside of the pocket-book attached to the belt.

"Do you mean to rob me of my money? Have I fallen among thieves?" demanded Cornwood.

"No; but we have," replied Captain Blastblow.

"This is an outrage, and——"

"Never mind that now; we will hear it another time," interposed the captain.

"I protest against——"

"All right," added the captain, as he seated himself at the cabin-table. "Go on deck, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, and take the air. It will do you good."

The captain handed the money-belt to Colonel Shepard, who opened it, and took from the pocket a large pile of bank-notes.

"That looks more like it," said the captain. "I don't believe that fellow will prosecute us for anything we have done. He belongs in the Florida state prison, if they have such an institution."

"I think we had better count the money," I suggested, as I took the package we had found under the companion-way from my breast-pocket.

"Yes, count, and see if the rascals made a fair 'divvy' of it," added the captain.

Colonel Shepard began to count the bills he had taken from the money-belt, and I opened the package in my possession. As I did so, I found the words, "First National Bank of Florida," as if impressed by a stamp, on the wrapper. The two tin plates, by which I had been able to recognize the package, were made by cutting off the round ends of a pair of tins used for doubling papers and tearing off checks or other papers. I concluded they were a device of the bank messenger, by which he could square his package. When I had shown these things to the captain, I proceeded to count the money.

"Just two thousand dollars," said the colonel, who finished his work long before I did mine.

"Nineteen hundred and ninety," I added, when I had finished the count.

"He may have taken out ten dollars," suggested the colonel.

"I don't believe Cornwood did, for I found other money in his pockets, which I did not touch," added Captain Blastblow.

"Count it over again, Captain Alick," said the colonel.

I did so, laying off the bills in hundreds, as they amounted to this sum. My last lot came out right, and I had twenty piles. It made just two thousand dollars. It was clear now, if it had not been before, that Cornwood's visit to Key West related to Nick Boomsby, and not to the detention of the Islander when she arrived there. The equal division of the money explained the long and rather stormy conversations between the passengers of the Islander. Cornwood was smart, if he was nothing else in the way of honesty and uprightness. He had bullied and persuaded poor Nick Boomsby to give him half the money, and would probably have stolen the other half before the vessel got to New Orleans, if we had not captured her on the way.

I was sorry for Nick Boomsby, for he had been the playmate of my early years; not so sorry that he had been found out as that he could commit a crime. But I could hardly wonder at his guilt when I thought of what his father had done, and what an example he had given his son. I thought the father was almost, if not quite, as much to blame as the son.

"What shall be done with this money?" asked Colonel Shepard, when he had wrapped up both divisions of the money and the money-belt in one package.

"What shall we do with our two prisoners?" I inquired, in answer to the question.

"We can hand them over to the police in New Orleans," replied the colonel.

"Then we can hand the money also over to them," I added. "Probably the news of the robbery of the messenger has been in half the newspapers in the country, and the police of all the large cities will know all about the case."

It was finally agreed that my father should keep the money till we arrived at New Orleans, as he would be in another steamer from the robbers. Colonel Shepard decided to go on board of the Islander at once, and his family were assisted to their new quarters.



CHAPTER XXI.

UP THE MISSISSIPPI.

As soon as we had transferred the family of Colonel Shepard to the Islander, we unlashed the two vessels, and each stemmed the swift current of the Mississippi on its own account. I stopped the screw to allow the other steamer to go clear of the Sylvania, and she went ahead several lengths before we could recover our headway. I saw Captain Blastblow waving his adieus to me, as though he intended to run away from us, notwithstanding his former experience.

"Let her out, Moses," I called to the engineer through the speaking-tube.

The chief engineer understood me perfectly, and I immediately heard the sound of the coal-shovel in the fire-room. I saw from the smoke issuing from the smoke-stack of the Islander, that her captain intended to hurry her. I had beaten her several times to my own satisfaction; and I was certain that he could not sail her any faster than those who had handled her on the Great Lakes. I did not like the idea of having the Sylvania beaten, though I was not much inclined to race for any reason.

It was Washburn's watch, and I gave him the wheel. I had run the steamer over on the left bank of the river, and the mate kept her at a safe distance from the shore. It was soon evident to me that we were gaining on the Islander. We were overhauling her as we had done many times before Captain Blastblow had proved that he was a good seaman, as well as an upright and straightforward man. He had intimated that he could sail the Islander faster than I could the Sylvania; and I only desired to show him that he was mistaken.

While the race was in progress, I went down into the cabin to arrange about changing the passengers into other quarters. Four of the late occupants of the cabin, besides Chloe, had gone on board of Colonel Shepard's yacht, and four were left in the Sylvania. There was a state-room for each of them, and I proposed that they should arrange the matter among themselves. But my father insisted that I should do it myself. I put my father and Mr. Tiffany into the two large apartments, and Miss Margie and Owen into the two small ones. Cobbington and the new waiter each had a berth, and there were still two spare ones. Everybody was entirely satisfied, though I could see that Owen was very sorry that Miss Edith had moved into the Islander.

When I went on deck the Sylvania was abreast of the Islander. Both steamers were tugging hard against the current, and each was carrying all the steam it was safe to put on. Slowly we walked by the Islander, and I could not help going aft to see how Captain Blastblow liked the looks of the stern of the Sylvania. When he saw me, he laughed pleasantly, and I was convinced there was no bad feeling in his heart. I had no feeling of personal triumph, for I was satisfied he would have beaten me if we had exchanged vessels. The superiority was in the steamer, and not in the management.

The river presented the same unvarying features, and in the whole of Plaquemine Parish, which contains the river almost up to New Orleans and the Delta, there is no land more than ten feet above the level of the gulf. The water was loaded with a sort of yellow mud, and it was easy enough to see how the levees had been formed and the Delta projected far out into the gulf.

When the water, for any reason, lost its five-mile current, the soil it contained was deposited on the bottom. As the mighty stream brings its load of mud down to the gulf, it is left there, and the same force works it to each side. In this way, though the effect of a century of accumulations are hardly perceptible, the Delta has been extended fifteen or twenty miles out into the gulf.

In this mud, which forms the bars at the mouth of the river, vessels drawing from sixteen to twenty feet ground; but their keels are driven through it by strong tugs, or even by the winds acting on the sails. The State of Louisiana has to look out for its levees almost as carefully as Holland does for its dikes. Millions have been spent on them, and every year requires additional expenditures to keep them in repair. Even New Orleans is four feet below high-water mark, as well as much of the surrounding country. The levees, created by the deposit of sediment from the river, and by human labor, are broken through when the freshets send the water down faster than the flow of the river will carry it off.

As I have said before, it was now a season of unusually high water. The country beyond the levees was covered. Sugar, cotton, and rice plantations were inundated. Occasionally we could see a group of houses on a knoll, like an island, but a few inches above the level of the water. In other places we saw dwellings floating, and others still in their places, but partly submerged. It all looked to me like a region in which I should not care to live.

"We are leaving the Islander a good way behind us," said Washburn, when I returned to the pilot-house, after my survey of the surrounding country.

"She is only about half a mile astern of us," I replied. "I suppose we shall gain about half a mile an hour on her in this current, when we drive the Sylvania."

"It is five o'clock in the afternoon," added the mate, glancing at the clock. "I estimate that we are all of fifty miles from New Orleans. Do you intend to run after dark, Alick?"

"Why not?" I asked, somewhat surprised at the question.

"I don't think it is quite prudent to do so. The river is very high, and I would rather see where we are going than go on in the dark," answered Washburn.

"The river is over a mile wide, and too deep for snags and sawyers."

"It is cloudy now, and it will be very dark. We don't run by courses here, and we may get into trouble in some way, though I confess I can't see how."

"We shall get to New Orleans by midnight," I added.

"What good will it do to get there by midnight? As we approach the city there will be something to be seen, but our passengers can't see it in the night. If I understand the matter, we are in no hurry, and it makes no difference whether we get in to-night or to-morrow noon."

"I think you are right, Washburn; at any rate it is best to be on the safe side. We will keep on as far as we can while we have the light, and then we will look out for a good place to tie up for the night," I answered.

I had hardly come to a decision before we saw a large body floating down the river. We could not make out what it was at first. A bend of the river swept it over to the side on which we were sailing, and Washburn headed out for the middle to avoid it. We soon ascertained that it was an old flatboat, such as come down the great river with a cargo of coal, lumber, grain, or other merchandise, and is then broken up, because it will not pay its cost to take it back to the point from which it started.

The flatboat came down the stream broadside to, though we saw it make two or three whirls as it advanced. It had evidently broken loose from its moorings at or near the city, and was on its way to the gulf on its own account. After passing the bend, the current began to carry it out into the middle of the river, and we were obliged to sheer off again to avoid a collision with it. I breathed easier when I saw it astern of the Sylvania.

"I should not like to make that thing out, close aboard of us in the dark," said Washburn.

"Would you like to have it drift against you while moored to the shore?" I asked.

"I should not; but that would be better than hitting it with full steam on. But we must haul up in the right place. We needn't choose a place where the current sets against the shore, as it does at a bend. I should haul her up on the other side of the river, and then anything floating on its own hook will be carried away from us," replied Washburn.

"The logic is correct, and we will seek such a place as you describe."

The sight of the flatboat assured me that it was not safe to run in the night, at least during high water, when the current was bearing off houses, vessels, and other cumbrous things. Running over a floating log might disable our propeller, and we should be helpless then. There were but few great bends in this part of the river, much as the mighty stream twists about above New Orleans. I kept a lookout for a suitable place to moor the steamer to the shore.

The supper-bell had just rung when I saw such a place as I had been looking for. On the right bank was a point of land where a considerable bend sent the whole force of the powerful current over to the other side of the river. I rang the bell to reduce the speed, as I pointed out the spot to the mate. He ran the nose of the boat up to the bank, and Buck jumped ashore with a line, with which a hawser was drawn to the land. It was made fast to a pine-tree, and no other line seemed to be needed.

I could see the Islander about two miles down the river. We all went down to supper except a hand to notify us of danger from any source. I was not at my meal more than fifteen minutes, for I had dined late. When I came on deck, the Islander was almost abreast of the Sylvania. Colonel Shepard was in the pilot-house with the captain, and they seemed to be in earnest conversation.

Probably Captain Blastblow had not thought of hauling up for the night any more than I had when Washburn spoke to me about the matter. I had no doubt they were discussing the same subject which the mate and I had disposed of.

"What are you doing here, Captain Alick?" shouted Captain Blastblow, as he rang his speed-bell.

"Waiting for the Islander to come up with us," I replied, laughing, for I could not be less good-natured than the captain of the Islander.

"Did you have to tie up to the bank to wait?" asked Captain Blastblow; and by this time the steamer was working just steam enough to balance her in the current, so that she was nearly stationary.

"We are going to lie here to-night," I replied.

"What for?"

"Did you meet a flatboat floating down the river about an hour ago?" I asked, thinking that would furnish sufficient explanation of my action.

"I did; I ran into it, and smashed in one of its sides so that it filled with water," answered Captain Blastblow.

"Then the next man that meets it in the dark cannot see it as well as you did," I continued. "I don't think it is safe to run in the night when the river is full of floating logs, flatboats, and other things."

The captain and the owner of the Islander discussed the subject, though I could not hear what they said. In a few minutes the captain rang the gong, and the steamer went ahead at full speed. I hoped no accident would happen to the Islander, and the chances were in favor of her reaching New Orleans in safety. But there was not much fun in paddling through the muddy river in the dark, let alone the prudence of doing so. My father and Owen came into the pilot-house after supper, and both of them approved what I had done.

The Sylvania lay alongside the bank of the stream, held by the hawser, with her stern a little way out from the shore. At seven o'clock it was very dark, and I directed the watch I had set for the first part of the night to rig lanterns at the fore-stay and the topping lift of the main-boom. I had a quantity of Bengola lights put in the pilot-house, that we might light up the scene around us, if it should be desirable to do so.



About nine o'clock I heard the noise of escaping steam, not more than half a mile distant. Then shouts came from the same direction. I lighted one of the fireworks, and in the glare I saw the Islander with a house hanging to her bow.



CHAPTER XXII.

THE ISLANDER IN A BAD FIX.

The silver light from the Bengola enabled me to see clearly the strange sight that presented itself to our gaze. Owen was smoking his cigar, and Washburn and my father were talking about India. The whistle and the shout from the steamer were the first intimations we had that anything was wrong. I could see some lights in the gloom that hung over the river, but nothing to enable me to ascertain the situation, until the Bengola illuminated the scene.

It was a strange sight. I could not tell whether the building was a house or a stable, though it appeared to have too many windows for the latter. The Islander, it appeared, had run her bow into the structure up to the pilot-house. The steamer was still working her screw. But the odd complication floated slowly down the stream towards the bank of the river opposite the position of the Sylvania.

"Call all hands!" I said, with energy. "Tell the engineer to stir up the fires."

Washburn hastened to execute the orders, and the rest of us watched with increasing wonder the floating mass, which was every moment increasing its distance from us.

"I say, Captain Alick, can you tell me what all that means?" asked Owen Garningham. "Was the Islander going into that house to spend the night?"

"I really can't say whether she was or not; but it is not likely that the steamer went on shore for a night's lodging in the building," I replied.

"I dare say the Islander could not handle herself very well on the land, if she found any land to get on," added Owen.

"It is more likely that the house, or whatever it is, was afloat when the Islander knocked for admission," I continued.

"If the steamer knocked, the house appears to have opened to her."

"How is your steam, Moses?" I called through the tube to the engineer.

"Rather low for working in this current," came back to me through the tube.

At that moment the Islander whistled again. I pulled our whistle line, and found we had steam enough to give a smart reply; but I was not willing to trust the Sylvania to the rapid river without a full head of steam. I lighted another Bengola. In its glare I saw that the other steamer was backing her screw, as probably she had been doing from the beginning. I judged that the building was about fifty feet long, and, as it was partly submerged, it presented a large broadside to the rapid current.

"I don't see how she got into that scrape, unless she was looking for a night's lodging," said Washburn. "That building is big enough to be seen in the dark."

"Of course Captain Blastblow did not intend to run into it," I added. "Probably he had not time to get out of the way when he first saw it."

"But it seems to me I should not go far with such a load before I shook it off."

"But don't you see that he can't pull out of the house?" demanded Owen. "He is stuck fast in her side."

"They have axes on board the Islander; and I don't think it would take our crew long to cut her out of that hole," added Washburn. "Why does she keep whistling? Her captain can imagine that we have not steam enough to work the Sylvania in such a current."

"I say, Washy, have you ever been down the Danube?" asked Owen.

"I never have been. I was never in Europe," replied the mate.

"I should say this current is quite as swift as that of the Danube at Vienna; and it makes seven miles an hour there."

"The ordinary current of the Mississippi is about five miles an hour, and in such a freshet it must be as much as seven."

"What is a freshet, Mr. Mate?"

"An inundation; an overflow of the water; a flood; a——"

"Cut it short! I understand it perfectly. I never heard it called a freshet before. Has it anything to do with the fact that this is fresh water, Washy?"

"I don't think it has, though I never heard of such a thing as a freshet in salt water, which could not very well be, since a freshet is caused by heavy rains and the melting of the snow," replied Washburn. "You never heard of a freshet before! Where have you been all your life?"

"That's an American word, Mr. Washburn," interposed my father. "I never heard it except in this country."

At this moment Mr. Tiffany and his daughter joined us in the pilot-house, after asking if they might come in. I gave them chairs and explained to them the rather ludicrous situation of the Islander. All hands were on the forecastle except the chief engineer and Landy Perkins. I ordered a Bengola to be burned on the top-gallant forecastle to enable them to see the Islander and its odd burden.

"Mr. Brickland says he has steam enough," said Landy Perkins, reporting to me at the pilothouse.

"All right," I replied. "Buck, cast off the hawser, when I bring her up to it."

The end of the fast had been passed around a pine-tree, and made fast at the bitts, so that we could unmoor without going on shore. I rang to go ahead; and when the hawser was hauled in, I backed the steamer away from the bank. I directed the deck hands to keep the fireworks ablaze that I might see where to steer. I soon discovered the Islander and the building, and ran for them as fast as possible. As we had the current with us, we made at least fifteen miles an hour.

As the Sylvania came nearer to her consort, I could better make out the condition of things on board of her. The building appeared to be some kind of a workshop. The Islander had drove her bow through its side. I concluded that some of the boarding and studding had not been broken off. The bow had carried them within the structure, and the lower ends had dropped down on the deck, and thus prevented the vessel from withdrawing her forward part.

As we came nearer to her, I had our fenders hung over the port side. We had two gilded axes slung on the front of the pilot-house, which had probably never been taken from their resting-places. I told Ben Bowman to take one of these, and Dyer Perkins the other, for both of them had had some experience in the woods. I had made up my mind just where the trouble was. I directed Washburn to go on board of the Islander when we got alongside of her, and superintend the cutting away of the boards and joists, with two more men from the other steamer.

Buck and Hop were to stand by the hawsers by which we were to make fast to the Islander. As soon as we came up abreast of the consort, I saw Colonel Shepard and his family on the quarter-deck. They were very much alarmed at the situation, for Mrs. Shepard was wringing her hands in terror, and the colonel was trying to comfort her. As soon as our bow came abreast of the party, Owen made a long leap to the deck of the Islander. It was a careless trick, and he deserved to fall overboard for risking his life when there was not the least need of it. As soon as we were fairly alongside our consort, the deck hands leaped on board of her with the fasts, and we were soon securely lashed together.

"Stop your screw, Captain Blastblow!" I shouted, though I realized a moment later that I had no business to give orders to him, or to undertake to manage the business of the occasion.

Washburn leaped on board with his two axe-men, and I heard him politely ask the captain to send two of his men with axes to assist him. Captain Blastblow not only stopped the steamer, but he instantly ordered his mate and another man to do what the mate of the Sylvania desired.

"I think we had better go ahead, Captain Blastblow," I continued, trying to be less imperative than before.

"If you see the way out of this scrape, Captain Alick, I am willing to do anything you say," replied the captain of the Islander.

"I think I do see the way out of it; and the best plan is to go ahead, full steam," I answered.

I had a theory, though I had had as yet no opportunity to test its correctness. I called Buck to the wheel, and told him to steer for the middle of the river. I was afraid if the building struck the bank it might be tumbled over on the steamers. I went on board of the Islander. I asked the captain to steer for the middle of the river, and then went forward into the building. My theory in regard to the boarding and studding was correct. Washburn was directing the four men, and assisting them himself, to pull out the boards and joists. They had little occasion to use the axes after the two steamers began to go ahead. Backing the Islander had tightened up every piece of lumber that had been forced in by the bow. The harder the boat pulled back, the more firmly the joists were held in their places. It was no wonder to me that the captain had not been able to shake off this unwieldy burden.

My first thought, in having the steamers go ahead, was to prevent the Islander from drawing out of the building while my men were in it, for they might have been crushed by the swaying of the structure. When we went ahead, we not only loosened the timbers and boards, so that they could be removed from their positions, but we prevented the Islander from coming out of her lodging-place until the hands were in a safe part of the boat.

"There, sir, I think she is all clear now," said Washburn.

I could find nothing to impede the withdrawal of our consort's bow, and I sent my hands back to the Sylvania, and directed the others to go abaft the pilot-house of the Islander. I requested Captain Blastblow to keep his craft going till I rang my gong. I returned to the pilot-house of the Sylvania, and rang to stop her. The gong of the Islander followed suit instantly. I waited a minute to notice the effect. I expected the consort would draw out of her "chancery" at once; but she did not. I told the mate to see that our hawsers were good for a hard pull, and he soon reported them fast and strong.

"Now, back her, if you please, Captain Blastblow," I called to the Islander.

At the same time I rang two bells. Both steamers began to back at the same time. The Islander immediately went clear of the building, which continued on its way down the river. No crash, or severe wrench, as I had anticipated, attended the separation of the steamer and its burden.

"You are all right now, Captain Blastblow!" I shouted, rejoiced that he had got rid of his incubus.

"Thank you, Captain Alick, for your assistance; and I think we will lie up with you," answered the captain of the Islander.

We cast off the fasts, and the consort followed us up to the place where we had moored before, and made fast to a tree just below us. Presently the captain came up to pay us a visit. I inquired about his prisoners first, and learned that they were under the care of Captain Cayo in the fore-cabin.

"Our people seem to think you were looking for a night's lodging in that floating building, Captain Blastblow," I said.

"Well, not exactly," added the captain. "We have been very sorry, for the last hour and a half, while we were dragged down the river by that building, that we did not follow your example, and hang up for the night."

"Where did you pick up that house, captain?" asked Owen.

"I kept a sharp lookout on the top-gallant forecastle; but none of us saw the building until it was too late to get out of the way," replied Captain Blastblow. "Following the example of Captain Alick, I kept as close to the shore on the port side as possible. About an hour after we left you, I saw something black loom up before me, and the next instant we struck her at full speed. The house had floated out of a bayou, I found, which was the reason we did not see it sooner. It was a building where they worked on rice. It was stretched across a creek, so that the rice could be dropped into a boat under it. We have a white man and two negroes on board that we saved from it."

After a long talk, in which Captain Blastblow did me the honor to say that I was a "smart boy," he returned to his craft, and the rest of us turned in.



CHAPTER XXIII.

AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION.

I was on my feet at daylight; but I found that Moses Brickland and Dyer Perkins were up before me. They had opened up the fires, drawn the clinkers from the furnaces, and were now oiling the engine. They had nearly steam enough to enable us to start up the river. Everything looked very quiet on board of the Islander, and there was no smoke issuing from her smoke-stack.

I jumped ashore, and the first thing I noticed was that the water was more than a foot higher than it was the night before. It seemed to me that there must be an inundation above us. I found no one stirring on board of the consort, and I went on deck. I knocked at the door of the chief engineer. I told him I intended to get under way in the course of fifteen minutes, and I did not care to leave the Islander behind. He got up at once, and called his starboard fireman.

Without standing on any ceremony, I walked into the captain's state-room, and told him I should be off in fifteen minutes. I found he had given no orders about starting, but I assured him his engineer and fireman were attending to their duty. I bantered him a little, saying I did not leave him behind for fear he would get into trouble. He was good-natured about it, and replied that he should sail in the company of the Sylvania if possible. He admitted that we could outsail him, for he had done his best to keep up with the Sylvania.

"How are your prisoners getting along?" I asked, for I had thought more than once that they might escape while we were hauled up.

"They were all right last night when I turned in. I looked this place over, and there is not more than half an acre on this bank that is not under water," replied the captain. "They could not get away without a boat."

We went out on the deck, and found the two quarter-boats were hanging at the davits. Captain Cayo had charge of the prisoners, and the fore-cabin was locked every night before they went to their berths. But the door must have been opened to let the firemen out. I told the captain that he had better make sure they were safe before we left our moorings, as it would be easier to find them now than it would be after we got half way to New Orleans. He went below, and when he came up he was assured they were on board.

I had avoided Nick Boomsby since the capture of the Islander, for I knew he would beg me to get him out of his present trouble. I could not see my way to do anything of the kind, and therefore I kept out of his way. I remained on board of the steamer until the engineer reported that he had steam enough to go ahead, when I returned to the Sylvania. The fasts were cast off, and by five o'clock we were again stemming the tide of the mighty river. The current was even stronger than it had been the day before. I told the engineer to let the steamer go at her ordinary speed, and the Islander kept very near us.

The river was covered with lumber, shanties swept from their resting-places, and other obstructions; but in the daytime we could easily avoid them. It was half-past seven before any of our passengers came on deck. We were passing a little village that seemed to be struggling for existence, for the high water was crowding hard upon its houses and other buildings. By eleven o'clock we saw several villages, and some very handsome and romantic estates, though they were mostly covered with water.

At noon the city was in plain sight, and soon we had New Orleans on one side and Algiers on the other. The water was almost up to the top of the levees. The shores were crowded with steamboats and sailing-vessels. The former were entirely different from any I had ever seen before, though for some time after I saw them every day. I had a map of New Orleans in a large atlas I kept in my room; and I had decided to make a landing as near as I could to the foot of Canal Street. I had read that this street had a green, with trees extending through it.

I had no difficulty in identifying it when I came to it. At the foot of it was the customhouse, said to be one of the largest public buildings in the United States; and I had no difficulty in believing the statement. In front of it was the broad levee where steamers landed, and such a forest of them I never saw before. They were packed in like sardines, and I could find no opening by which I could get to the shore.