.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-

.. meta::  
   :PG.Id: 35831
   :PG.Title: The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat
   :PG.Released: 2011-04-11
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Roger Frank
   :PG.Producer: the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
   :DC.Creator: Quincy Allen
   :DC.Title: The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1918
   :coverpage: images/cover.jpg

================================
The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat
================================

.. _pg-header:

.. container::
   :class: pgheader

   .. style:: paragraph
      :class: noindent

   This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
   almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
   re-use it under the terms of the `Project Gutenberg License`_
   included with this eBook or online at
   http://www.gutenberg.org/license.

   

   |

   .. _pg-machine-header:

   .. container::

      Title: The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat
      
      Author: Quincy Allen
      
      Release Date: April 11, 2011 [EBook #35831]
      
      Language: English
      
      Character set encoding: UTF-8

      |

      .. _pg-start-line:

      \*\*\* START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT \*\*\*

   |
   |
   |
   |

   .. _pg-produced-by:

   .. container::

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

      |

      


.. role:: small-caps
   :class: small-caps

.. role:: xl
   :class: x-large
   
.. role:: lg
   :class: larger   

.. role:: sm
   :class: smaller

.. class:: center

   | :xl:`THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT`
   |
   | OR
   |
   | :lg:`The Rivals of the Mississippi`
   |
   | BY
   |
   | CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN
   |
   | :sm:`AUTHOR OF “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE`
   | :sm:`LAKE,” “THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST,” ETC.`
   |
   | The GOLDSMITH Publishing Co.
   | NEW YORK N.Y.
   |
   | MADE IN USA
   |
   |
   |
   |
   | COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY
   | GROSSET & DUNLAP


.. contents:: CONTENTS
   :depth: 1

CHAPTER I—GLORIOUS TIMES AHEAD
==============================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will simply elevated his eyebrows as he replied,
evasively:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER II—LAYING PLANS
=======================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jerry nodded his head coolly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER III—BLUFF NAMES THE BOAT
================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank was ready to settle that matter without
delay.

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

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

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

At that the boys looked at each other and
laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was “Pot Luck!”




CHAPTER IV—THE PERIL ON THE RIVER
=================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER V—THE FIRST NIGHT AFLOAT
================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER VI—WHAT FRANK FOUND ON DECK
===================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This he did without any further delay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing,” replied Frank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I pass!” remarked Bluff, immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M. T. S.

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




CHAPTER VII—ANOTHER CARELESS PILOT
==================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems like it,” was the reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bluff had certainly disappeared.




CHAPTER VIII—FACE TO FACE AT LAST
=================================


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

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

“Where’s Bluff?” cried Will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank swept a look around at the darkening
sky ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER IX—THE GAME OF BLUFF
============================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank laughed in the face of this chap.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Frank knew that nothing was to be feared
any longer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER X—A CALL FOR HELP
=========================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XI—A THREATENED COLLISION
=================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me see!” exclaimed Jerry, eagerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XII—A RED GLOW IN THE SKY
=================================


Crash!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XIII—AFTER THE STORM
============================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A barn, I reckon,” Jerry had said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XIV—THE RUNAWAY HOUSEBOAT
=================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Frank turned to Seth Groggins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mile after mile they put behind them in this
fashion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XV—ON BOARD THE POT LUCK AGAIN
======================================


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

“It’s the *Pot Luck*, as sure as you’re born!”
cried Bluff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XVI—THE UNWELCOME PASSENGER
===================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XVII—THE FUGITIVES OF THE LEVEE
=======================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He staggered a little as he reached them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER XVIII—WHAT JERRY’S STICK BROUGHT DOWN
=============================================


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was himself coming to some sort of conclusion
in the matter, and it first of all seemed to
be founded on a certain fact, which by now Frank
had made certain of. Luther Snow was *not* the
real name of their passenger. Frank had made a
startling discovery one day recently, and it put an
end to his bewilderment at least. It happened
that, chancing to notice some handkerchiefs the
old man had stowed in his various pockets, and
which he was washing out, after a crude fashion
that would have made a woman laugh, Frank saw
that in every case a name had been carefully
erased with indelible ink.

Then again there began to be other little things
about the old man that told the observing lad he
surely had never been a carpenter. Frank
purposely asked him to build some boxes out of
several smooth boards purchased for the purpose;
and the result was a botched job that any second-class
carpenter would have blushed to own. Even
Bluff screwed up his eyebrows when he saw them,
and privately declared that he did not wonder old
Luther was out of a job so often, if that was a
sample of the best he could do along the line of
his trade.

To Frank there was a deeper significance in this
failure to make good on the part of their passenger.
No wonder his hands were so free from calloused
places, for Frank now felt positive that
Luther had never been a carpenter in all his life.

If that part was made up, then probably the
entire tale was only a “fairy story,” told for a
purpose. That purpose was to get aboard the
houseboat, for some reason or other. Well, he
had been aboard for some weeks now, and nothing
had happened, only he seemed to like it so well
he wanted to remain with the boys until they
reached New Orleans.

There was something about this desire on his
part that impressed Frank. If, as he now actually
began to believe, Luther Snow was really the
Marcus Stackpole of whom Uncle Felix had particularly
warned them, why had he not picked up
the hidden treasure Jerry was always talking
about, and disappeared long ago?

Frank somehow began to believe that, after all,
there was no secret *cache* aboard the boat which
might contain valuables in the shape of papers or
jewels. Jerry liked to think there was, but really
they had not a peg on which to hang such an idea;
except that queer Uncle Felix seemed to want to
keep strangers off the boat, and particularly a man
he seemed to dislike very much, one Marcus
Stackpole.

Frank was even now busying himself with trying
to lay some little trap by means of which he
might learn the truth.

“I’ll take him unawares some time,” he was
saying to himself, as he stood on deck that afternoon,
after they had tied up, with the sunlight
around him, and looked out from under the shady
branches of the tree to which the boat was fast;
“and spring that name on him—call him Mr.
Stackpole. If he can look me in the eye, and
never show a sign, I’ll have to think I’m mistaken;
but all the same, off this boat he goes at Memphis,
if I have to get an ambulance, and send him to the
hospital.”

Bluff was seated, as he often might be seen, on
the rail of the boat; while Will pottered over the
tangled fish lines, for Jerry had taken a notion to
put a new roll of film in the little camera, and was
even then rubbing it up. Luther Snow, a blanket
about his shoulders, sat near by, watching it all
in a pleased sort of way.

“Time was when I could stand anything, boys,”
remarked the old man as he gathered this covering
closer to his body; “and I reckon I’ve been
through considerable all over the wide world, for
a man who never had a cent that he didn’t earn
himself. But I’m getting a little old now, you see.
I begin to feel rheumatism in my bones, and sometimes
I begin to believe that my days as a rover
are nearly over.”

Frank always listened when he started to speak
of experiences in his checkered past. It often
aroused the curiosity of the boy to understand how
a man who, as he confessed himself, was only a
common carpenter (and a mighty poor one at that,
Frank would say to himself), had been able to get
around in all the queer corners of the world that
Luther Snow had.

He seemed to know many foreign cities by
heart, and spoke of certain things in a way that
only one familiar with them could do. Well, there
could be no doubt of one thing, and this was that
Luther occupied the rôle of a mystery to Frank,
a puzzle he could not wholly solve.

If, then, he proved to be Marcus Stackpole, the
very man against whom they had been especially
warned, what did he want?

Frank kept repeating that to himself time and
again as he lounged there and in the light of the
declining sun watched his chums; then turned his
eyes in the direction of the man who had the
blanket about his shoulders, and who seemed so
satisfied to be with them on board Uncle Felix’s
houseboat.

It was Jerry who startled them all suddenly by
calling out:

“Hey! there’s a gray squirrel right over your
head, Bluff! Watch me give the little beggar a
scare, will you?”

He reached over, and picked up one of a number
of sticks of wood which had been brought on
board at their last stop, being intended to serve as
fuel for the little cook stove, after they had been
chipped in half, perhaps.

This was a short and heavy one Jerry had
selected. Rising to his feet, he gave it one whirl
around his head, and then let fly. Jerry had
always been reckoned something of a thrower.
He often played in the pitcher’s box before he
went away from home, and was even now a
promising fielder on the sub nine at college.

So Frank would not have been very much surprised
had he succeeded in knocking the squirrel
in question off his perch. But he was very much
astonished at the most remarkable consequences
of Jerry’s shot.

There was an angry scream, such as only an
enraged cat could make; and something large and
hairy, with extended legs, came floundering down
upon the deck of the houseboat directly in front
of Bluff. Indeed, in its passage, the wildcat, for
it turned out to be nothing else, made a vicious
stab for Bluff; and that excited as well as alarmed
individual was so taken aback, that quite naturally
he lost his grip on the railing of the boat, and fell
over into the river.

This was getting to be a settled habit with
Bluff, for he seemed capable of going overboard
on the slightest excuse, just as though he rather
liked taking a plunge into the cool waters of the
Mississippi.

And the angry cat sprawled there on the deck,
yowling and snarling, as if daring anyone to dispute
his right to be monarch of all he surveyed.




CHAPTER XIX—A BOBCAT ON BOARD
=============================


“Help!” gasped Jerry, who seemed to be in
some sort of a pickle, having managed to get his
legs crossed in such a way, as he sat there pottering
with Will’s camera, that in the excitement of
the moment he was unable to either rise, or roll
out of the danger zone.

As sometimes happens in a case like this, it
turned out to be the one least expected to play the
part of hero. Nobody dreamed that Will—quiet,
sensitive Will, the artist of the expedition, and a
boy given more to dreaming than doing strenuous
things—would jump into the breach as he did.

In fact, he was never able to explain it himself,
save that somehow he seemed to imagine those
clubs on the deck were just made for belaboring
a tiger-cat over the head with; and from the fact
that Bluff had gone over into the river, with Jerry
calling wildly for help, it must be up to him to *do*
something.

Why, he snatched up one of the heavy sticks as
though he had been anticipating just such a sudden
call, and had his plan of campaign already
laid out.

“Take care, Will; don’t let him get in at you
with those sharp claws!” cried the startled Frank,
as he too tried to possess himself of a suitable
cudgel, if there chanced to be another worth
having in the bunch.

He could not find what he wanted on the spur
of the moment—one was too slender to promise
any results; while another seemed much too short
with which to attack a vicious wildcat.

Will did not appear to expect any help in his
fight. The way he kept at it was a revelation to
those who watched him, for all the while Frank
sought his stick, he kept one eye on the battle,
determined to jump in, if necessary, club or no
club.

Whack! came the cudgel Will yielded against
the side of the bobcat, knocking the savage beast
sprawling on the deck; though like his kind the
cat could not be kept down, but was on its feet
instantly, more angry than ever.

“Whoop! hit him again for his mother!”

It was surely Bluff who gave utterance to that
shout. Evidently he had not cared to stay there
in the river, while so much that was exciting
seemed to be occurring aboard the houseboat; and
taking advantage of some objects upon which he
was able to seize, Bluff had clambered up far
enough to thrust his head over the side, in time
to witness that splendid “home run hit” made by
timid Will.

Well, they would hardly be likely to ever call
him that again, after seeing how vigorously he
went after the now demoralized wildcat, getting
in blows whenever an opening occurred, and
meanwhile poking at the beast threateningly.

It crouched there, snarling as only such a beast
can, with its ears drawn back, and its green eyes
seeming to emit sparks. Once it sprang full at
the boy, and Mr. Snow uttered a cry of alarm;
he made his way into the cabin, and now held
Bluff’s repeating gun in his hands, with the air
of a hunter accustomed to such tools; but there
seemed small chance to get a fair shot, the boy
and the cat were so close to each other.

But Will proved as quick as a flash in his movements.
He met this leap of his feline foe just
as cleverly as a champion ball player might a swift
one, straight over the plate. There was a loud
concussion; and then they had a view of a squirming,
hairy figure just passing over the rail above
Bluff, four legs working overtime in the effort
to get a grip with those keen-pointed and poisonous
claws.

Luther Snow thrust the gun into the hands of
Frank, who had been in the act of trying to meet
the figure of the cat at the instant the animal made
his spring.

“It’s your right to wind him up, Frank!” the
man said; and seemed as cool as any one accustomed
to scenes of peril all his life could be.

So Frank stepped to the rail, and seeing the
baffled bobcat just about climbing the bank, he
wound up his existence with one shot.

“Wow! is it all over?” demanded Bluff, who,
when the cat came sailing toward him a second
time, had simply let go, and dropped with another
splash into the river; because, as he afterwards
said, he was already as wet as he could get; and
knew he would be safe down there from those
threatening claws.

Will was as pale as a ghost, and breathing hard
from his exertions, when Frank rushed over to
seize his hand and squeeze it.

“Good boy, Will!” he exclaimed. “We’re
proud of you this day, believe that. Why, what
you didn’t do to that poor beast could be put
into a thimble. I’ll never, never forget it, as
long as I live!”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” remarked Jerry,
who, it seemed, had finally managed to get on his
feet again, and now stood there; holding the
camera in his hands, a grin of delight on his face.

“What do you mean, Jerry?” asked Frank.

But Will saw the little black box, and being
himself always just wild to snap off everything
he could run across that promised to make a
good picture, he seemed to jump to the right
conclusion.

“Did you do it, Jerry?” he demanded, eagerly.

“I rattled her right lively; and if I didn’t make
a big mistake, you ought to get some good pictures
out of the lot,” replied Jerry, handing Will’s
property over.

“Well,” remarked the wet figure that came
crawling over the rail just then, “if you only
managed to press the button when that crazy cat
was sailing into Will, and our chum gave him
that blow on the nose, you’ve got something we’ll
all be proud to see.”

“That was when I pushed the button the last
time, I reckon,” Jerry declared; “but honest to
goodness, I was that excited I wouldn’t like to
say right now that I got anything but the tip of
pussy’s tail.”

“Oh! I hope it won’t be so bad as that,” said
Will; “not that I want to figure in a picture,
because I’d ten times rather it was one of the
rest; but I’ve always wanted to get a snapshot of
a bobcat on the jump.”

“He was on the jump, all right!” affirmed Bluff.
“I thought he’d drop on my head, and jab my
eyes out, so I ducked. I like cats all right, in
their proper places; which I take it is in the laps
of old maids. I haven’t lost any cat, and wasn’t
looking for one. But, Frank, since I’m wet
already, let me go in and get your game before he
drifts away.”

“Don’t call it *my* game,” remarked Frank,
positively; “that honor belongs to Will here.
And if we can cure the skin, he’s going to have
a little rug made out of it to remember this
occasion by.”

“Hear! hear!” cried Jerry; while Bluff, who
shed moisture with every step he took, waded
out to where the dead animal was floating on the
water in a little swirl just below the tied-up
houseboat.

“Well, I’m going to develop that film to-night,
you hear,” said Will; “because I just can’t wait
to see what Jerry did. I hope he got more of
the cat than his tail. It ain’t much of a tail at
that, either, seems to me. But look at these
claws, and his sharp teeth. Ugh! I don’t believe
I’d have had the nerve to tackle him, if I’d seen
them first.”

“Yes, you would!” declared Bluff, confidently.
“Always thought you was timid-like, William,
because you never blew your horn about what
you’d do; but sure, I’ve changed my mind; and
now I reckon you’ve got more real spunk than
anyone in the whole bunch.”

“Just what I meant to say, Bluff,” remarked
Frank.

“And my sentiments to a hair,” Jerry added.

“I’ve seen some instances of bravery in my
time, but few that could equal the way he attacked
that angry wildcat, and sent it over the rail,”
Luther Snow said, with sincerity in his voice.

“But, Will, I hope the beast didn’t scratch you
anywhere,” Frank went on; “for you know it’s
sometimes a dangerous thing to be wounded by
the claws of any wild beast that lives on animal
food. Lots of hunters have died from blood
poisoning, even when they thought the scratches
hardly worth washing, they were so small.”

“He never touched me, Frank, that I know of;
and I can’t see a sign of a scratch anywhere
on my hands,” Will replied, proudly.

“And there don’t seem to be any on your neck
or face,” Jerry declared, after an examination.
“But, Frank, if there had been, would you have
used that purple stuff you carry in that little
bottle, tightly corked, and labeled ‘poison’?”

“Just what it’s for,” came the reply, “and it
disinfects any sort of wound that seems suspicious.
The only trouble is, that it leaves a dark
stain on the flesh for some days. It’s permanganate
of potash, and any druggist will put it
up if he’s told what it’s for. But when one’s
life may pay the forfeit, what does a little pain,
or stain, amount to?”

“You are quite right, my boy,” remarked
Luther Snow. “I’ve carried a small phial of that
same stuff thousands of miles, over African trails,
and through the better part of India. And if
I’ve used it once, I suppose I have fifty times; for
myself or some gun bearer who was clawed by
a lion or tiger.”

Again did Frank have that deep conviction that
there was something strange about this Luther
Snow, as he called himself. How a poor carpenter,
who had never had a dollar he did not
earn himself, could spend years in hunting just
for pleasure, all over Asia and Africa, bothered
him. But some day he expected to know what the
key could be to this riddle.

That night the talk was all about past experiences
that had come the way of the four Outdoor
Chums. One story brought up another, and
through it all Luther Snow sat there, listening as
though spellbound. If he had been somewhat
of a traveler and a hunter, as an old man; surely
these boys deserved more or less credit for what
they had been through, considering their years.

Frank felt drawn toward the man in spite of
himself. There were times when he believed that
if this mystery that hung over Luther Snow could
only be lifted he might look on him with friendly
eyes.

But he never wavered in the least with regard
to that resolution he had taken, which was to the
effect that when they reached the city on the bluff,
Memphis, he would play a little lone hand he
was arranging, and see to it that Luther was left
behind; with plenty of money in his pocket, placed
there secretly, to cover all further expenses down
to the city he wished to reach, according to his
story—New Orleans.




CHAPTER XX—THE FLOATING TREE
============================


“How did they turn out, Will?”

It was Jerry who asked this question. They had
all left the cabin, and given it over to the photographer
for an hour, so that he could make use of
it for a dark room, in which to develop his films.
And the opening of the door, with his appearance
on deck, was a sign that his operations had been
brought to a conclusion.

“Simply immense!” exclaimed the other, in a
triumphant tone. “Jerry, when it comes to snapping
things that are in perpetual motion, you
certainly take the cake.”

“You mean I got a little more than the stub
tail of the cat?” inquired Jerry.

“You got the whole business down to a dot!”
cried Will. “It’s going to be the greatest picture
ever; and will give our collection some class, let
me tell you. The only thing that makes me feel
bad is that I didn’t have the honor of taking it.
Everybody’ll say Jerry ought to have been elected
official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera
Club, instead of me.”

“Oh! rats!” scoffed Jerry; “when we’ve got
fifty splendid pictures that you snapped under the
funniest conditions ever, some of them worth
being entered for a prize. But I’m coming in, and
take a squint at those negatives, if you’ll let me,
Will.”

“Sure; they’ve been in the hypo bath, and are
fixed, all right. I’ve got ’em dripping in the
wash right now. Come along, everybody, and
see a panorama. The whole thing, from the
start, up to where our unwelcome visitor took a
notion to go overboard. It’s like a story, continued
from one number to the next. When
you’ve looked at all the pictures you’ve got it
just as if you’d read it between covers.”

“All but me going over backward?” laughed
Bluff.

“Wait and see,” Will replied, as he led the way
into the cabin; “I think Jerry was just going to
snap you at the time the cat dropped; for you’re
in the beginning just as big as life, with your
hands thrown up, as you keel over backwards;
and the cat sprawling on the deck, its back arched.
Oh! you can’t squirm out of this game, Bluff! I
tell you it’s the finest thing that ever came down
the pike.”

“We must open all the windows, and air the
cabin before we think of turning in,” remarked
practical Frank, snuffing the rank kerosene odor
in the atmosphere, caused by Will’s close confinement
with his smoky dark-lantern.

All of them were delighted with the negatives
that Will held up against a light, so that they
could see. Being familiar with photographic
work, they understood the lights and shadows;
and could see that, considering the peculiar conditions
under which Jerry had pressed the button
time and again, the remarkable series of thrilling
pictures were strongly featured. And through
them all, saving possibly the first, Will took the
leading part; after the wildcat, of course, which
occupied the centre of the stage.

Once more they sat outside talking, while the
cabin aired.

“Seems to me we’ve been having a lot of rain
lately, for the good old summer time,” Bluff
remarked.

“I should say so,” Jerry went on. “Why, we
can see logs passing us every five minutes that
we look out, after we tie up. And I reckon some
of the tributaries of the Mississippi must be at
the flood stage. Wouldn’t surprise me any to
discover chicken coops floating past.”

“Don’t I wish we could, with the chickens
perched on the ridge-pole!” chuckled Bluff.
“Chicken is one of my weak points. I feel lost
when I don’t get a feed of fowl once a week,
anyway.”

“Frank, what was that you seemed to be staring
at just when it got dusk?” Will asked. “I saw
you looking, and then go to the end of the boat
with your hand over your eyes to see better.”

“Oh! that was a passing boat,” Bluff spoke up;
“I noticed the light in the cabin myself, but was
too busy to bother.”

“I’ve more than half an idea we’ve seen that
boat before,” remarked Frank, quietly.

“You don’t say!” exclaimed Bluff. “Now, I
reckon you mean our friend, Ossie Fredericks;
don’t you, Frank?”

“Just what I do,” returned the other. “Of
course it was too gloomy for me to make sure,
and the boat was some distance out; but I could
partly see the shape of the cabin, and it seemed to
correspond with that on the *Lounger*. Then it
was running with power, for we all must have
heard the sound of the engine exhaust.”

“Looks like that crowd meant to take as long
a voyage as we’ve got ahead of us; and we’re apt
to run across ’em in New Orleans, when we get
there,” Will remarked.

“Well, we don’t own the river, and can’t tell
’em to go back home, because their company isn’t
wanted,” said Jerry.

“I hope we see nothing more of them, because
Oswald is bound to get even with Frank for
something or other,” was what Will observed;
for he was by nature the most peaceable of all the
Outdoor Chums, and disliked a row.

“Yes, get even with him for saving his life,”
grunted Bluff. “If ever you catch me taking
chances with a howling mob of roustabouts, or
any other thing, just to save a fellow like Ossie
Fredericks the beating he ought to have, why
you’ll know it—that’s what!”

But Frank, although he made no remark, knew
this was not so. He understood Bluff better than
the other did himself. In fact, he often said that
the bark of Bluff was worse than his bite; and
he felt positive that if the occasion arose again,
whereby his chum could save even Ossie Fredericks
from being injured, Bluff would put himself
out to do it.

In the morning they saw that what had been
said about the driftwood was certainly true; for
out on the swelling river even uprooted trees were
floating, having been undermined up one of the
many tributaries of the Mississippi.

“Look sharp, fellows,” said Bluff, “and if you
see a lone chicken coop coming along, let me
know. It’s me into the little dinghy then, and
away to the rescue. I’d sure hate to see any
fowls drown.”

“And to save them from it, you’d cut their
heads off; eh, Bluff?” laughed Frank, as he passed
in to help Jerry with the breakfast.

All through that day they kept passing trees
that were afloat, and which, somehow, did not
seem able to make as good progress on the current
of the river as did the houseboat.

Bluff was frequently using the field glasses to
spy out that expected hencoop which he stoutly
declared would be along shortly; but as they had
corned-beef hash for supper that night, with some
baking powder biscuits, which Jerry baked, it can
be set down as positive that no fowls arrived by
flood-express, or otherwise.

Even the fishing seemed to be useless while the
river was at such a “booming” stage, and Jerry
hardly knew what to do with himself evenings,
for that had become his favorite pursuit of late.

Again they had had a heavy downpour during
the afternoon. Of course the roof of the cabin
kept them from being bothered while the rain
continued, and they could laugh at such happenings.
But Frank kept pretty close to the shore,
lest they lose sight of it when the mist hung over
the river, and find themselves too far out.

Even the boats bound up-river seemed to
be having troubles of their own in dodging the
floating trees and logs; for they did much
whistling as long as they remained within ear-shot
of the boy-voyagers.

About five in the afternoon, Frank concluded
that they had better be on the lookout for a place
to tie up.

“I know it’s earlier than usual,” he said, noticing
that the others seemed somewhat surprised
at his declaration; “but you notice how the banks
are crumbling all along here. We’ll be lucky
enough to find a tree to-night that will answer
for our hawser. You notice that we don’t call
it a cable any more, since we bought that big
heavy rope to take the place of the one that
played us such a mean trick by breaking, in
that storm, and letting the boat go adrift.
Hawser sounds so much more like business, too.”

“How about that place down below, Frank?”
asked Jerry, pointing. “Looks like a good tree
close to the edge of the bank, all right. Shall
we work her in?”

“I suppose so,” replied Frank; and yet as they
approached the spot he was seen to shake his head
seriously.

“Won’t do, I’m afraid, boys,” he observed.

“But, Frank, that tree would hold a church;
it’s a big chap, and not rotten either, so far as
I can see,” Bluff remarked.

“And look at its roots sticking out, would
you?” Jerry added; “why, Frank, even some of
them would hold the boat, if we didn’t want to
climb the bank.”

“There’s danger of a cave-in, boys,” Frank
went on to say. “One must have gone right above
here, this very afternoon; and if ever it does
come, why, you can see that giant tree must
topple over into the river. They always fall that
way.”

“Wow! excuse me!” cried Bluff, as he craned
his neck to look up at the towering top of the
big tree. “Why, if that ever came down on our
*Pot Luck*, there wouldn’t be a grease spot left of
her.”

“How about the crew?” demanded Will. “I
move we go on, fellows. Better find a tree that’s
further away; or else just throw our old mud-hook
overboard, and come to an anchor for one
night.”

Just below they discovered a safe bay, where
the water was deep, and a convenient tree back
from the shore offered a chance to secure the
hawser. Here they hastened to enter, and tie up.

“No danger in this place; is there, Frank?”
asked Will, a little apprehensively.

“Not at all,” came the reply, in a tone that
quieted all Will’s fears; for he had the most
unbounded faith in his chum.

They were just getting up from supper when
they heard a tremendous racket close by. There
was a crash, and a splash, as though a whole
section of the river bank had caved in.

“The big tree!” exclaimed Will, turning white.

“I wonder, now,” remarked Jerry, rather in
doubt; while Bluff declared he meant to go
ashore, and find out if it could really be so.

He came back later, lantern in hand, and reported
that the tree, to which they had thought
to tie up, had entirely disappeared, having been
undermined by the rising flood, so that it toppled
over into the river, and was carried off. Where
it had once proudly stood, there now remained
only a gap in the river bank. And once again
did three of the chums have reason to be thankful
for Frank Langdon’s thoughtfulness. What
their fate might have been had they carried
out their first intention, was not pleasant to
contemplate.

During the night another heavy shower fell,
and for an hour the rain pattered upon the roof
of the houseboat. Frank declared, in the morning,
that this sort of weather in the summer was a rare
thing; for, as a rule, the rivers are at flood in the
early spring, and decline through the hot months.

“See any chickens roosting on a floating coop,
Bluff?” asked Jerry, at one time during the morning,
as he noticed the other handling the glasses
nervously.

“Frank, oh! Frank, look here!” called Bluff,
without paying any attention to the joking words
of the other; and as Frank came hurrying out of
the cabin Bluff went on to say: “take a look, and
see what you make of that tree down there, that
we’re catching up with. Seems to me there’s
people in the branches!”

Instantly there was excitement aboard the
houseboat. Frank peered through the glasses,
and immediately confirmed the words of the discoverer;
and as the others, in turn, took a look,
they added their opinions.

“A man, a woman, and, seems to me, two children,
are perched among the branches of the
tree,” Frank continued, soon afterwards, as he
looked again; “and as the thing seems to be moving
very slowly we’re catching up, all right.”

“But how in the wide world d’ye suppose they
ever got there?” demanded Will.

“Their house may have been carried off; and,
finding that it was sinking, they climbed into that
treetop when they had the chance. Now, I
recollect I *did* hear a call just before morning.
I listened, and made up my mind it was only a
wild bird, perhaps a night-heron hunting its food
along the flooded bank. But it must have been
one of those children crying in fear!”

“Well, we’ve sure got to get that family aboard,
and take them to the next town. Why, perhaps
those children are half starved for something to
eat right now!” Jerry remarked, warmly, for he
knew what that must feel like.

“They see us,” Frank said, a little later, when
they had approached much closer to the floating
tree, in the branches of which the fugitives of the
flood clung. “The man is shouting something,
and sure enough, he seems to be pointing at the
other end of the log, as if—great Cæsar!”

“What is it, Frank?” asked Will, anxiously;
“is the tree sinking?”

“Something seems to be crouched there on the
butt end of the floating tree,” was what Frank
went on to say; “there, it moved then, and
crawled up a yard or so nearer the people in the
top. Boys, get a gun out; for I believe it’s a
panther!”




CHAPTER XXI—THE NEW OWNER OF THE HOUSEBOAT
==========================================


“A panther!” echoed Bluff, springing alongside
Frank, where he could see better.

“Well, what do you think of that?” cried
Jerry; while old Luther came hurrying out of
the cabin.

“Oh! Frank, get your rifle, quick!” put in Will,
nervously. “Bluff’s pump-gun isn’t such a bad
weapon, after all; but with such a beast a rifle
ought to be the right thing.”

Frank seemed to have the same idea, for he
hastened into the cabin; and when he immediately
returned carrying the repeating gun that had
served him on many occasions in the past, Will
appeared to think that it was all over but the
shouting, such was the confidence he felt in his
chum.

“How is it now?” asked Frank, as he came up.

“Why, the tree is heading this way; that is,
I mean we seem to be bearing straight down on
it,” Jerry replied; and considering the excitement
that all of the chums were laboring under just
then, it was not strange that he found himself
mixed up slightly in his description of the way
things were going.

“If we keep on gaining we’ll come mighty near
running the tree down,” Bluff added. “And then
you’ll get a chance to give the panther his passage
ticket.”

“But the tree acts queer,” Will declared.
“Every now and then it just swings, and turns
around. Now you see it, and now you don’t.
Sometimes the branches are heading in our direction,
and again it’s the butt; with the ugly cat
lying there waiting till he gets good and hungry,
when he expects to make a meal from one of that
poor family.”

“Huh!” grunted Bluff, “I rather think that
critter is keeping an eye on us. Chances are he
just feels it in his bones that we’d be bound to
break up his dinner party, somehow; eh, Frank?”

“He’s moving,” replied the one addressed; “and
seems to be creeping toward the people right
now!”

“Sure!” declared Jerry; “you can hear them
hollering to beat the band; but they make so much
noise I don’t seem to be able to understand anything
they say.”

“They’re trying to tell us what the panther is
doing; and begging us to shoot him as quick as
we can,” Frank said, with a serious look on his
face.

“Which same you’re only too willing to do, I
reckon?” remarked Bluff.

“But the trouble is, I don’t seem able to fire
from here without taking some chances of hitting
one of the people,” Frank went on, betraying
what was worrying him so much. “A bullet can
strike the hard limb of a tree, and be deflected in
all sorts of queer ways, you know.”

“Frank, you are right, there,” said old Luther
Snow, admiringly.

“But we must do something to help them,
Frank!” ejaculated Will, himself ready to undertake
the work of rescue if his companions failed
to think up a remedy for the trouble.

“That’s right!” cried Bluff; and immediately he
disappeared in the cabin; which the others knew
meant that he was after the pump-gun, upon which
he seemed to place so much dependence, though it
hardly seemed the right kind of weapon when
facing a panther.

“I was thinking,” Frank went on, as if making
up his mind; “that if I dropped into our little
dinghy, I might paddle around to the other side
of the tree, and get a crack at the beast.”

“You’re just right you could, Frank!” admitted
Jerry; and even Will, although not used to much
in this line, nodded his head.

Then he vanished, as though an idea had struck
him; and Frank understood. Will, too, had gone
to arm himself, not with a gun, but his snapshot
camera, which he meant to use in taking several
pictures of the strange scene, with the floating
tree, the family hanging in the branches; and perhaps
a glimpse of the savage beast crouching
there.

Will and Bluff appeared at almost the same
time, and it was to find Frank hastening to drop
into the little skiff which they dignified by the
better sounding name of dinghy or “dinky.”
Frank had already placed his rifle aboard, with
the muzzle turned away from him, as every careful
hunter always makes sure of doing.

“Set me loose, Jerry,” he remarked.

They had almost overtaken the big tree, in the
branches of which this strange little comedy, that
threatened to become a tragedy at any minute, was
taking place.

“Can you see him from up there, boys?” called
out Frank, as, paddle in hand, he started the boat
down the current, and in a direction that would
allow him to get below the tree.

“There! I got a fine shot at him then!” cried
Will; who, being an artist, was always on the
lookout for a pose, and a picture that would do
him credit when exposed to the gaze of his
friends at home.

“But he dodged right afterwards,” added Jerry;
“and I don’t see him now, Frank.”

“Say, he’s climbing up among the branches, I
do believe!” called Bluff, who was again on the
lookout, gun in hand.

The people in the tree were shouting at a great
rate, the man trying to urge Frank to hurry and
shoot, the woman and children shrieking in their
terror, as they saw the treacherous, sleek beast
constantly drawing nearer.

But Frank on his part did not really believe
that the panther meant to attack the fugitives of
the flood. With the instinct of his kind the beast,
no doubt, understood that all he had to fear lay
in the direction of these newcomers.

The wary panther had already observed Frank’s
gun, and seemed to know that his best policy, just
now, was to try and keep some object between
himself and the lad.

For several minutes Frank used the paddle
diligently, in the endeavor to gain such a position
that he could get a good view of the panther.
Twice he laid the paddle hastily down and
snatched up his gun; but there must have been
something about his movement that warned the
beast of his danger; for on both occasions the
big cat quickly changed his position; and when
Frank was ready to fire, he could not do so.

Then again the people got within his range as
the floating tree took a sudden notion to turn
slowly around. The current carried him faster
than the unwieldly forest monarch, so that in
order to keep within a certain distance of the
trunk, Frank was presently forced to take to the
paddle again.

This was discouraging; but he expected that,
sooner or later, he would get the opportunity
he craved, and be able to shoot the dangerous
customer.

All at once he noticed that the tree was turning
again. It was close to the houseboat now; indeed,
a small gap of only a dozen feet or so seemed
to separate the two floating objects; and Frank
knew that there was danger of Bluff being
tempted to use his shotgun, if he saw the opening.

A sudden yell from all the other chums told
Frank that something had happened; and what
it was he instantly guessed when he saw how the
three boys scattered. Two of them, Bluff and
Will, seemed to be making for the open cabin
door; but Jerry was in some sort of trap, for the
crouching form of the panther, lashing its sides
with its long tail, as though fully aroused, stood
between him and safety.

The animal seemed in the very act of leaping
on Jerry, and seeing this, and that he could not
get in a shot because of the many small branches
that intervened, Frank shouted to his chum,
warningly:

“Look out, Jerry, he’s going to jump! Over
the side into the water with you! He won’t follow
you there! Hurry! make a spring for it,
Jerry!”

Apparently Jerry understood that this was his
best plan. There was really no time for thinking,
or choosing, with that furious beast ready to
launch his long, slender body through the air.

Jerry made the plunge.

Frank knew there was nothing more to fear
from that quarter. Jerry was a good swimmer,
and could easily make the tree close by; in the
branches of which he was quickly perched, dripping
wet, but still full of pluck.

The situation had changed in a wonderful manner.
Jerry was in the tree, and the panther
apparently owned the houseboat; for Bluff, old
Luther, and Will had retreated to the cabin, the
door of which they had shut and barred behind
them, and from the windows they were shouting
to Frank, trying to tell him where the panther
was just then.

Frank could hardly keep from laughing, in
spite of the gravity of the situation, for it had a
comical side as well as a serious one. He knew
that it was now up to him to get that animal, one
way or another; and as he did not exactly care
to board the houseboat while the panther was
hiding behind the cabin, some way must be discovered
for enticing the invader to show himself.

All Frank wanted was just one glimpse of the
gray coat of the enemy, and if at the time he had
his gun ready, he knew he could get his work in.
But how might this be done?

Evidently the animal had been hunted before,
for he seemed determined to keep some obstacle
between himself and the rifle. And although Bluff
had the reputation of being rather a daring sort
of fellow, even he could not be expected to issue
forth, and act as a sort of “toll” for Frank, luring
the panther to show himself.

Some other plan must be adopted; and in this,
no doubt the chums inside the cabin could assist.
They were on the ground; while Jerry, lodged in
the tree, and being without a single weapon, could
not be expected to do anything but offer advice.

Back and forth Frank paddled, keeping a close
watch on the cabin; but evidently the wary animal
knew his location; for it kept out of sight. Jerry
shouted that it was in plain view from his side,
once when Frank was around on the other quarter,
and loudly bemoaned the fact that he had
no gun.

The tree and houseboat were really in collision
at this time, and floating down the current together.
Frank was afraid to go around to the
other side again, lest the beast take a sudden
notion to once more plunge among the branches
of the tree where the poor fugitives were hanging,
watching this strange battle, with a boy’s
wits matched against the cunning of the smartest
beast that roams the American forest.

When this had gone on for some little time,
Frank began to get provoked. Surely there must
be some way of getting the beast to show itself;
and in this emergency Frank turned to his knowledge
of woodcraft to help him out.




CHAPTER XXII—WHO WAS BOSS
=========================


“Ahoy! there, Bluff!”

Frank put both hands to his mouth, using them
in lieu of a speaking trumpet; for really the
children were making so much racket close by,
that it was a difficult thing to be heard.

“What is it, Frank?” shouted a voice from one
of the cabin windows on that quarter of the boat.

“You must scare the cat around to this side,
so I can get a crack at him!” continued Frank.

“Sure! I understand that; but how can I do
it?” demanded the willing Bluff; and had Frank
suggested that he creep out, and make faces
around the corner of the cabin at the panther, the
reckless fellow would probably have agreed; for
he placed the greatest dependence possible on his
chum’s ability to shoot straight.

But, of course, Frank had not the slightest
intention of placing the life of a chum in peril,
when there were other means at hand for inducing
the panther to whip around the cabin.

“Got your gun handy, Bluff?” continued the
boy in the dinghy.

“Right here; and only waiting for a chance to
give him every charge it holds, Frank,” came
the ready reply.

“Well, hold on till I get just where I want to
be,” continued the other. “Then, when you hear
me give a whoop, bang away several times out
of the windows on the *other side* of the cabin.
And the rest of you in there, yell for all you’re
worth. That ought to fetch him.”

Frank knew that an animal can only grasp one
idea at a time. In its sudden alarm the panther
would undoubtedly forget all about its cause for
vigilance with regard to the human being in the
boat, and the chances were strongly in favor of
its rushing around to the side of the cabin that
was free from the new disturbance.

So Frank, using his paddle once more, manipulated
the little boat until he had placed it just
where he wished, and in a position for a clear
shot, should his artful plan succeed.

Then, as he grasped his ready rifle, he gave the
promised whoop.

The family in the treetop must have discovered
that the crisis had arrived in their fortunes, for
even the two children temporarily stopped shrieking;
and were eagerly watching the boy in the
little boat.

Immediately a tremendous racket broke out on
the other side of the houseboat. A gun was discharged
several times. There was also loud yells
from three voices, even old Luther joining in
with vigor.

Frank swung his gun up to his shoulder, and
his eye glanced along the shining barrel. He
could give a pretty accurate guess as to the exact
spot where the panther must show up; and he was
covering that place.

Just as he expected, the alarmed beast, forgetting
its former design of keeping away from the
enemy in the cockleshell of a boat that danced on
the heaving water of the Mississippi, came leaping
around the corner of the cabin. Possibly it had
taken a sudden notion to return once more to its
former perch among the lower limbs of the floating
tree; since the houseboat did not seem to be
such a desirable location after all, with all those
noises so close by.

Frank did not wait to find out. He had no
idea of troubling the panther by asking its intentions.
The opportunity for which he had been
waiting so long was now within his grasp; and
as quickly as he could properly aim at the beast
his finger only too eagerly pressed the trigger.

There was a single report, not at all like the
crash of Bluff’s heavy shotgun. Immediately a
shout broke forth from within the cabin, showing
that no sooner had those in hiding carried out
their part of the proceedings, than they jumped
over to the other windows to see what would
happen.

“You got him that time, Frank!” Bluff was
heard to whoop.

“Oh! and this wire mesh prevented me from
snapping him decently; I’m sure it won’t be even
a halfway good picture!” echoed Will.

“Bully boy!” shouted Jerry, from the branches
of the tree.

Frank was satisfied, for he saw the beast kicking
his last on the deck of the houseboat which
he had boarded, and taken full possession of, in
such a bold and unheard-of manner.

Then, a couple of seconds later, the door of
the cabin burst open, to allow Bluff to rush upon
the deck, carrying his weapon; and evidently
only wishing that some power would give the cat
the balance of its nine lives, so that it might regain
its feet, and make it necessary for him to pour in
a volley at close quarters.

But even as he arrived upon the scene it seemed
to become still.

“It’s dead, Frank!” cried Bluff, in what seemed
to be a disappointed voice.

“Glad to hear it,” returned the other, as he
dropped his gun, and took to the paddle once
more; for he knew that they must get the wretched
fugitives of the flood out of the treetop before it
separated from the houseboat.

“Hand down the woman first, and then the
children,” he said to the man, when he arrived at
a place that seemed convenient for the transfer;
“I’ll put them aboard the houseboat, and then
come back for you.”

By using great care, he managed to get them in
the small dinghy, and paddled over to the larger
craft. Those on board assisted them on deck,
after which Frank, after handing up his rifle, to
be rid of it, went back for the man and Jerry.

When they too had been safely transferred,
Frank insisted that they separate the tree from the
*Pot Luck*, so that they could move along faster.
Will was busy with his camera about this time,
determined to get as much of the affair on the
records as possible.

Once the boat floated free from the slower moving
tree, Frank set Jerry to work getting something
to eat for the hungry fugitives, who had
been made as comfortable as some blankets in the
cabin could accomplish. The children had brightened
up with the improved look of things. They
watched Jerry working at the stove, and a smile
of anticipation came over their childish faces as
they had a scent of cooking bacon and boiling
coffee.

Meanwhile Frank and Bluff and Luther Snow
were examining the dead panther.

“Bigger than any we ever saw before; isn’t it,
Frank?” asked Bluff, as he turned the beast over,
to see where the fatal bullet had entered behind
the foreleg, just as Frank had intended when he
fired.

“I never saw a larger, if you want my opinion,
lads,” remarked Luther Snow; “and I certainly
have shot a round dozen of the animals in my
time.”

“We must try and keep the pelt, Frank,” observed
Will. “It will make a great addition to
our collection; and as a mat, with the head on,
it’d look fine.”

Frank, upon asking the man about the misfortune
that had befallen him, learned of the
terrible nature of the flood that had taken the residents
of the country up one of the Mississippi’s
tributaries by surprise. Their house was washed
away during the night; and with the coming of
dawn they found themselves floating down the
swollen river, and out upon the great Mississippi.

When later on they discovered, as they clung
to the roof of the building, that it was slowly but
surely going to pieces, they hastened to climb into
the treetop, as it came along, just as though sent
by a kind Providence.

Hardly had the exchange been made than their
house went to pieces. And then the alarming discovery
was made that they were not the only
passengers aboard this novel craft; for one of the
children shrieked out that a great cat lay along
one of the big lower limbs, watching them with
yellow eyes.

What that man and his wife suffered during
all the time that elapsed before assistance came,
with the gradual approach of the houseboat on
the scene, can only be imagined, not described.
He had no weapon save a pocket knife. This he
had held open in his hand, determined to stand
between the hungry panther and his dear ones,
should the worst happen.

They told Frank that they had lost all of their
possessions, save the land itself, by the coming of
this cloudburst; but as they had relatives in a
town down the river a few more miles, if the boys
could put them ashore there, they would be very
grateful.

Jerry cooked a double allowance of food, since
he felt pity for the unfortunates, and was anxious
to see those hungry children eat their fill, for
once. They did not look as though they had seen
much else than hominy, three times a day, and
scant allowances even at that.

Keeping in as close to the shore as seemed wise,
Frank, an hour or so later, began to look for
signs of the town mentioned. It proved to be
not much of a place, but doubtless to the homeless
family the wretched houses appeared like palaces.

The boys found that they could run in close to
shore, and anchor. Then the skiff came into play
again, in ferrying the family to dry land. Frank
was glad that they had had a chance to be of help
to those in distress. He would have offered to
assist the man with a little money, but the other
assured him that he was supplied to some extent;
and that his father lived there, who would gladly
take them all in.

And so, after shaking hands all around, they
saw the four late passengers of the floating treetop
land; after which the voyage was resumed.

The incident gave the chums plenty to talk
about for the balance of the day; and as was
natural, it seemed to revive various other affairs
in the past, which had come their way. To all
of this conversation old Luther seemed to enjoy
listening greatly. He would sit there without
saying a word, and taking it all in; while a queer
little smile would occasionally cross his face, of
which the observing Frank could make nothing.

During the day Frank managed to remove the
pelt of his prize, and it was fastened with nails
against the cabin wall, in a place where the sun
could seldom strike it; for skins must always be
dried in the shade. And every time he looked
at it, in days to come, doubtless Frank would
always see the strange picture of the flooded
river; the houseboat interlocked with the floating
tree; the family and Jerry perched amidst the
branches; and that savage beast owner for the
time being of the gallant *Pot Luck*.




CHAPTER XXIII—LEFT IN THE LURCH
===============================


“Are you sure he’s asleep in the cabin?”

Frank asked this question in a low tone, some
days after the adventure with the panther. He
and his three chums were loitering on deck at
the time. It was about the middle of the afternoon;
and complaining of feeling sleepy, old
Luther had vanished within the cabin.

“Yes, I just went in to get something; and
he was snoring on his cot,” replied Will; “but
what’s up, Frank?”

“He’s got something to tell us about the old
man,” remarked Jerry. “I’ve seen him watching
Luther when he thought the passenger we’ve
had fastened on us wouldn’t be noticing him.
Out with it, old fellow.”

“I’ve made up my mind that his name isn’t
Luther Snow at all,” Frank remarked, in a
whisper.

“Then what might it be, Frank?” asked Bluff,
casting a quick glance toward the door of the
cabin.

“What would you say to Marcus Stackpole?”
queried the other, coolly.

Various exclamations told of the boys’ astonishment.

“How under the sun did you ever jump on
to that?” demanded Jerry.

So Frank had to tell them the many reasons
he had for believing it to be the positive truth;
and as he talked the others began to see light too.

“That would account for the way he just made
us take him on,” said Will.

“Yes,” added Bluff, “even when we made him
up a purse, he went on down the river, and laid
for us again, with a yarn about the skipper of a
packet jumping him because his money gave out.
Well, we swallowed it all, like a lot of innocents,
for a fact. Frank, honest now, I believe you’ve
hit the truth, and that that little black launch that
used to hover around was his boat.”

“He must have let ’em know someway that his
passage was secured, because I haven’t noticed it
around for weeks now,” remarked Jerry, with a
nod of his head.

“But why under the sun do you suppose he
wants to be with us on the *Pot Luck*?” demanded
Will.

“That’s what I can’t tell you,” Frank replied.
“I only know that he acts as if he wants to stick
to us all the way to New Orleans; and that Uncle
Felix seemed to be afraid he’d do that very same
thing. Chances are, we’ll never know what it all
means until we get there, and ask your uncle to
explain.”

“Well, do we carry him there?” asked Bluff.

“I should say not, if we know it,” was the way
Jerry vented his opinion.

“And as my uncle impressed it on me that,
above all people, I mustn’t take Marcus Stackpole
aboard, I think we ought to get rid of him right
away,” Will declared.

“Yes, that’s easy to say, but how’re we going
to do it?” Jerry broke in with. “The old fellow
seems to like it here; yes, and I rather guess he’s
taken something of a fancy to the bunch of us,
too. He sticks worse than a mustard plaster on
your back. Talk of Sinbad, and the Old Man of
the Sea; Luther could give ’em points on how to
stay right there.”

“Leave it to Frank,” interrupted Will. “He’s
got a plan, I’m sure; haven’t you?”

“Well, here it is in a nutshell,” remarked Frank,
smiling at the confidence the other chum seemed
to have in his ability to meet a situation; “we’ll
get to Memphis to-morrow, you see. Thinking
that we mean to put him ashore only at Vicksburg,
below, Luther will have no chance to play
sick; so we can work the little racket.”

“Are we in it, too, Frank?” asked Bluff.

“Yes, you and Jerry are to go ashore after we
tie up, to get some things, besides the mail. An
hour later you’ll have come back, with your errands
done; but remember you’re not to come
aboard, or show yourselves. Then I’ll recollect
something I wanted you to do very much. Will,
at the time, can be deep in some business connected
with his photography, and I can’t send him
to hunt you up at the store; so I’ll ask old Luther
to please take the bottle to get filled.”

“That’s dead easy,” muttered Bluff; “he’ll fall
into the trap; and after he’s out of sight Jerry ‘nd
I’ll slip aboard, when we part company with
our passenger. Say, I’ll be a little sorry, someway,
too; for after all, he’s not such a bad sort.”

“But, Frank, how will he know what our meaning
is?” Will inquired.

“I have all that planned out,” Frank went on.
“I’ll give him a note to hand to Jerry here. When
he can’t find him, and discovers that we’ve left
him in the lurch, of course he’ll think to open it.
It will be a few lines written to him, telling that
we have found out who he is; and that as Uncle
Felix positively ordered us not to carry Marcus
Stackpole as a passenger, we have had to send
him adrift. I’ll enclose a ten-dollar bill in the
letter. That would take him to New Orleans if
he’s really what he claims. That’s to ease my
conscience in the matter, boys.”

“And a good scheme, too!” remarked Bluff.

“It takes Frank to think ’em up; I always said
so,” Will added.

They did not dare talk along that line any
further, for fear the object of their conversation
would suddenly come out of the cabin, and seeing
them looking so mysterious, scent enough of the
truth to keep on his guard the following day,
which would interfere very much with Frank’s
plan.

During the balance of that afternoon and the
evening that followed, all the boys tried hard to
appear natural whenever Luther was around. He
may have thought they looked a little queer at
times; but at least they gave him no reason to
believe that his secret was known.

It was about ten the next morning that the
hawser was made fast to a wharf at the river front
of Memphis; which lies on a sort of bluff, high
above the Mississippi.

The two chums went ashore, with numerous
errands to do, that they declared would take them
until noon. Yet in less than one hour later Frank
caught the whistle from the cotton piles on the
levee, that told him Bluff and Jerry were back,
“keeping shady” until he could carry out his part
of the little programme.

Will was very busy just then, dabbling in his
daylight developing bath, so that anyone could
see it was utterly out of the question for him to
leave, and go on an errand.

Frank carried out his part of the plan very
cleverly. And old Luther, taking the note which
Frank had purposely sealed in an envelope, went
ashore, and up toward the city. After he had
vanished from view two skulking figures came
aboard, chuckling with delight over the apparent
success of Frank’s plan.

“Get the hawser aboard, and let’s push off,”
said Frank, a little concerned lest Luther should
come in sight even then, and demand to be taken
back.

The boys worked with willing hands, and in
a short time the *Pot Luck* was once more afloat,
drifting down the wide river, and leaving Memphis
and Luther Snow behind.

Still, none of the boys seemed as jubilant as
they had anticipated, in getting rid of their incubus.
The fact was, that Luther had somehow
rather gained a little hold upon their affections,
and secretly they were sorry to have him go.
Only for that strange clause in the note of Uncle
Felix they might have allowed him to remain
on board the houseboat until New Orleans was
reached, no matter if he were Marcus Stackpole
or not.

Often would they ponder over this strange
matter; and it must form the subject of more than
a few earnest talks; yet, not having the key to
the puzzle, they must always confess themselves
baffled. As Frank had truly said, the riddle was
not to be solved until they stood face to face with
the gentleman who owned the *Pot Luck*, and they
had plied him with questions.

Often when some darky from the bank would
call out a sportive remark, intended for those
aboard the passing houseboat, the boys would
look at each other in a queer way. For the same
idea must have flashed into the mind of each one;
and this that it might be the wily Marcus Stackpole
trying a new game upon them, with the idea
of once more getting aboard the *Pot Luck*.

Below Vicksburg they took stock of the time,
and found that in all they had been just seven
weeks on the voyage. Another one ought to see
them safely at their journey’s end, if all went
well.

Being on a boat that could only drift, there was
no chance to attempt any of the numerous “cutoffs”
that began to be met with, every day now.
And so sticking to the big river, they “boomed”
along on the flood from shortly after daylight up
to nearly dark, covering scores of miles each day
with the swift flow of the current.

The Southern plantation scenes were of great
interest to the boys; and Will rapidly diminished
the number of his film rolls, snapping laughable
pictures of the dusky toilers of the cotton and
sugarcane; together with the numerous broods
of pickaninnies that gathered around, every time
they stopped at a little “wood-station,” where
certain boats were in the habit of tying up to load
pine cordwood for the boiler.

And one night, when the heavens were cloudy,
and there seemed a prospect of rain at any
minute, they had an unexpected surprise that
showed how strangely Fate could manage things.

Frank had tied up a short distance above what
looked to be a wood landing, where some sort of
boat was secured. They had arrived rather late,
and the darkness had gathered so quickly that
they were not able to get a good view of this
craft, just barely seen through some trees located
on a low point.

Not wishing to be bothered by visitors, and
have more or less noise around until a late hour
of the night, they had chosen this way of
avoiding it.

Supper had been prepared, and was long since
placed “where it could do the most good,” as Bluff
declared. And the four chums were sitting
around on the deck, enjoying the cool evening
breeze; for the day had been a very hot one,
which made the prospect of a storm rather
promising.

Somehow or other the conditions made them
speak of that night when they ran to the fire,
and were overtaken by the storm. Imagine the
astonishment of the others when Frank suddenly
exclaimed:

“Talking about fires, fellows, seems to me that
looks like one right now, down below the point
jutting out, and where we saw that boat tied up!
Wouldn’t it be a funny thing now if history chose
to repeat itself, with the rain coming along, too.”

And looking as he said, the other three lads
saw a bright glow beginning to show; while loud
cries arose, that seemed to tell of alarm.




CHAPTER XXIV—RIVALS NO LONGER.
==============================


The greatest excitement reigned aboard the
houseboat, when it was realized that while they
were talking about their former experience, here
a fire had broken out on board some other boat
just below them.

“Shall we go and help put it out, Frank?”
asked Bluff, who seemed quite anxious to have
an affirmative reply. “Looks like we’re just
bound to be called on for any little old job along
this river. Fire fighters, get busy!”

“We can’t all go,” said Frank, remembering
their former experience; “and as Jerry was complaining
of having hurt his foot on that nail a
little while ago, why, he will have to stay, and
watch the boat. The rest come with me!”

No one thought to question Frank’s authority,
because he had long ago been elected as the chief
of the club: and his word was law; though, as a
rule, he tried to make his comrades feel that they
had as much voice in settling ordinary matters as
he did.

Bluff and Will jumped ashore after their
leader. Jerry grumbled a whole lot, not at
Frank’s decision, but the unfortunate freak of
Fate that made him suffer from stepping on a
nail in his bare feet, just when he wanted to have
an equal chance with his chums about going to
the help of those in danger of being burnt out.

Frank and his two companions ran as fast as
they could. The bank happened to be fairly open,
so they quickly reached the point of land that
jutted out. Below here there seemed to be some
sort of beach, and over this they could make quick
time.

Before now they had discovered that, sure
enough, a boat was afire, and Bluff called out that
it seemed to be some sort of shantyboat, too.
Perhaps they imagined they were about to render
assistance again to some poor family, such as the
one that had been rescued from the floating treetop,
at the time of the adventure with the savage
panther.

“I don’t hear any children hollering, though,”
panted Bluff, as he kept close to Frank’s heels.

“That’s so,” spoke up Will; “but there’s a heap
of yelling going on all the same. Listen to ’em;
will you, boys.”

And just then a single voice, filled with excitement,
came easily to their ears:

“It’s gaining on us, Ossie, I tell you! There
isn’t enough of a crowd to keep the flames back.
Didn’t I say that gasolene stove’d do us some day?
and it has. The whole thing’s going under!”

“Ossie!” said Will, as they somehow came to a
sudden stop.

“Shucks! it’s only *that* crowd, after all,” remarked
Bluff; “let their boat go up in fire and
smoke, for all it matters to us, fellows.”

“Well,” said Frank, who knew the speaker better
than Bluff did himself; “you can both go back,
if you feel that way; but these fellows are in a
bad fix; and even if they don’t thank me for lending
a hand, I’ve just *got* to try and help put that
fire out, if I want to look at myself in a glass
without blushing.”

With that he rushed off again. And hearing
the patter of two pair of willing feet close behind
him, Frank had to chuckle. Of course neither
Will nor Bluff could be left out when there was
anything exciting going on.

Two minutes later, and they were on the scene.
They found a pretty serious situation, with the
flames pouring out from one end of the houseboat,
that must have cost the millionaire father of
Oswald Fredericks some thousands of dollars to
outfit.

And the boys, while they seemed to be working
desperately in the endeavor to extinguish the fire,
did not go about it in the proper way, so that
their efforts were about as good as wasted.

Frank took in the situation at a glance. He
knew that the wind just then was coming from
down the river; and as it was the upper end of the
*Lounger* that was afire there was some chance to
gain the mastery of the hungry flames.

Seeing a couple of buckets where one of the
others had dropped them upon finding the fire
getting too hot for him, Frank stooped over
them. Rapidly he gave his chums directions
how to keep these in constant play. They were
to do the dipping into the river, handing the filled
buckets up to him; when he would dash the water
on the fire in a certain spot, until he had overwhelmed
its hold there; and be in a condition to
move on a little further.

They worked like beavers. Indeed, once
aroused to the work, and determined to win out,
Bluff could not have done better service had it
been the *Pot Luck* that was in danger of being
wiped out.

Again and again did those buckets come into
Frank’s hands, and the contents sprayed over
the spluttering fire. It had met with a new enemy
now, and one against which its most desperate
efforts seemed to avail little. System had
been brought into the game, a concentration of
energies upon one spot. Ossie and his comrades
had doubtless thrown plenty of water in the time
they were laboring; but it had been so widely
scattered that its strength was lost.

Pretty soon Frank found that someone was
working side by side with him, taking full buckets
from other hands, and following his example in
casting the water in a particular spot.

It gave him something like a thrill when he
realized that this was no other than Ossie Fredericks
himself. For the time being the rivals of
the Mississippi were working side by side, as
though the very best of friends, and animated by
a single purpose, which was the saving of the
fine power houseboat from destruction.

After that the fire was quickly gotten under
control, though Frank would not stop in his labor
until the very last spark seemed to have been
smothered. As the boat had been fastened with
the bow up-stream, all the damage was away
from the motor, and would not amount to so
serious a thing after all. A hundred dollars might
cover the bill for repairs; and doubtless Ossie
and his friends could continue their cruise on
the morrow, making out the best way possible,
with a partly burned cabin, until they pulled up
in the Crescent City a short time later.

“All out, Frank?” asked the perspiring Bluff.

“Yes, every spark, so far as I can see,” was
the reply; “and I guess we’d better be heading
back to our own boat as fast as we can, because
I felt a drop of rain just then, and we’re going
to get a deluge pretty quick now.”

“Hold on, please, Frank!”

It was Ossie himself who said this. He was
coming toward them, his friends following at his
heels. Frank had heard them arguing over something,
and he imagined that several of the boys
were holding back in connection with something
that Ossie himself seemed determined to do.

“I’d like to shake hands with you, Langdon,”
said the millionaire’s son, as he approached, holding
out his now grimy palm. “When you did me
a good turn that other time I acted like a bear,
and I’ve been sick about it ever since. This settles
the whole thing. I’ve been foolish to try and
stand out against as fine a fellow as you. The
crowd at college that stood up for you knew what
they were doing. I’m ashamed of the way I
acted, and I’m going to ask your pardon right
here.”

“Glad to hear you say that you’ve changed
your mind about me, Ossie,” said Frank, as he
took the extended olive branch in the shape of
Fredericks’ hand, and gave it a hearty squeeze.
“And I hope that when we go back to college
again we’ll be the best of friends. As to the
little job we joined you in this night, why, it’s
been a snap for us; eh, Bluff?”

So Bluff and Will in turn had to take the hand
of Ossie. Then the other called out to his comrades
to step up and ratify the new compact of
peace. Perhaps neither Raymond Ellis nor Duke
Fletcher liked the way things were going; but
under the conditions they could not hold back. As
for the St. Paul fellow, young Benedict; and the
heavy-set chap who played the part of engineer
and general assistant, not having any particular
reason for hating Frank and his chums, they only
too gladly followed suit in shaking hands.

The rain began to come down a little harder,
and Frank did not care to stay longer. So, followed
by the good luck wishes of Ossie, and a
hope that they might meet again in New Orleans,
to which city he meant to hasten, now that his
boat was badly damaged, the three boys from the
*Pot Luck* hurried up the bank again.

They did get wet to some extent before gaining
the shelter of the cabin; but to such hardy
cruisers that was a small circumstance. Frank
would have taken ten times the amount of soaking
for the privilege of winning over so persistent
a rival as Oswald Fredericks had been during
the last year in college, and while upon the
Mississippi voyage.

Great was Jerry’s surprise when he heard the
story; and his disgust was sad to see when he
realized that he had been cheated out of all this
fun. As for Will, although he professed to having
enjoyed the adventure immensely, still he
never referred to it in later days without a regret
that he had not been able to snap a few pictures
of himself and chums, working like volunteer
firemen to save the houseboat of their bitter enemy
and rival from destruction.

The *Lounger* was gone at daylight, from which
fact Frank judged that Ossie must have been exceedingly
anxious to get the boat to some place
where it could be repaired quickly, in order that
he and his friends might finish their vacation
aboard, before the time came to have it hauled all
the way back to St. Paul; which only a man rolling
in money could afford to have done, Bluff said.

“Well,” remarked Will, when they saw this,
after starting forth themselves; “perhaps after all,
it’s better that way. Oil and water can’t mix
very well; and while Ossie was feeling pretty
warm toward us last night, those cronies of his
might set his mind against us again. Why, that
Ellis has a hand that feels like a snake, or a cold-toad,
when you take hold of it. I always despise
a fellow like that. Seems to me he’s just made
for trickery and cunning.”

Frank thought the same way, but did not express
his opinion. Secretly he too was satisfied
that they would not have to see more of the others
during the voyage.

And so they went on, enjoying themselves day
by day, meeting such troubles and difficulties as
might arise from time to time with the same brave
spirit that had always been a motto of the Outdoor
Chums; and finally finding themselves safely
tied up in a boatyard on the river front of the
great city of the South, that seems to stand at
the gateway of the Mississippi like a sentinel,
guarding the entire valley against some threatening
foreign enemy.




CHAPTER XXV—THE FINISH OF THE VOYAGE
====================================


“Tell them all to come in!”

A hearty voice uttered these words; and passing
through a door, the three comrades of the
houseboat found themselves in the presence of an
elderly gentleman, who sat with a leg bound up,
and resting on a chair. He had a thin face; but
it was now wreathed with a genial smile, as he
held out his hand to Will.

“Hello! Nephew Will Milton; glad you’ve
arrived, safe and sound; and so these are your
companions I’ve heard so much about, the Outdoor
Chums? Well, after all, I’m beginning to
believe the stories that have come to me about
their prowess, and penetration; because in the first
place you four boys have made this long voyage in
good shape; look the picture of health; and last
of all, you declined to be humbugged by any
slippery case like Marcus Stackpole; eh?”

The boys looked at each other, too astonished
for words; because Will had never written a single
word to his uncle during the entire cruise; how
then could he know anything about their unwelcome
guest, who seemed determined to stick to
the houseboat until it arrived in New Orleans, and
whom they had only been able to get rid of
through a clever ruse.

“Wonder how I knew about it; eh?” laughed
the old gentleman, who had spent many years of
his life in seeking sport under every sun, being
a born Nimrod, as Will had long ago informed
them. “Well, I’ll let you into the secret, boys. I
used to get a letter every little while, written on
board the houseboat, which I see you aptly named
the *Pot Luck*. And *he* wrote them all!”

“But,” exclaimed Will, his eyes wide with surprise,
“we don’t understand it, Uncle Felix. You
seemed so bent on not having us let that man
aboard at all; and above everything warned us
not to allow him to be there when we reached
New Orleans; and yet you say he was writing to
you all the while?”

“Why, I must have had a dozen letters about
your carryings on,” continued the old sportsman,
still laughing at the puzzled looks on their faces;
“and Marcus did you all justice, I’ll wager, for
he’s a good hand at describing things, Marcus is.
But all the same, I’m going to have you tell me
everything that happened, from the time you
started out. I’m deeply interested in the voyage
you made; and unless I miss my guess, you’re just
the stripe of young heroes the accounts said.”

“But, Uncle, we can’t tell you anything at all
until you satisfy our curiosity,” declared Will,
resolutely.

“I suppose that’s only natural,” the gentleman
remarked, nodding.

“Why, just look at it yourself, Uncle,” Will
went on, as the spokesman for the four chums,
“ever since I got your letter some months back,
while still at college, we’ve been hammering our
brains to understand just what it all meant. We
had all sorts of ideas about it. One thought this
Marcus Stackpole must be some bitter enemy of
yours, who wanted to do you an injury.”

“And see here,” demanded Uncle Felix; “which
one was it who was always so positive that I had
some valuables secreted somewhere behind the
paneled walls of the cabin, and kept on rapping
and tapping every chance he got, trying to find the
treasure trove?”

Jerry turned red, but he stood up manfully
before the quizzical eyes of the old gentleman.

“That was I, sir,” he said, boldly. “I thought
it was a good guess, after reading that letter you
wrote our chum, Will. But I gave that up when
we learned that our passenger, Luther Snow, must
be the man, Marcus Stackpole. Because I saw
then how silly the thing looked. If there had been
any valuables hidden, and he knew where to find
them, he wouldn’t have stuck to us like he did, but
skipped out.”

“That’s correct, I guess, Jerry,” commented
Mr. Milton. “And now to lift the curtain and
let you understand what it was all about. Just
a little wager, my boys, between myself and my
friend Marcus; who has been my comrade on
many a hunt through African wilds.”

“A wager!” faltered Bluff, weakly, looking at
Frank; who smiled, as though some such idea
might have flitted through his mind some time or
other, to be dismissed as out of the question.

“Why, yes,” continued the owner of the houseboat.
“We had heard a great lot of stuff about
you four boys. My sister-in-law even took the
trouble to send me some clippings concerning a
rescue you made of a balloonist from the waters
of the Mexican Gulf. So Marcus and myself got
to discussing things, and as I had that houseboat
up North, I proposed that I get you four to take
a long voyage down the big Mississippi during
your vacation, which was near at hand.”

“And that was something we’ll always thank
you for, Uncle!” cried Will; “because we’ve
surely had one of the finest times of our lives.”

“Well, to go on,” continued Mr. Milton, who
it was evident was eager to hear an account of
the entire trip from first hands; “one word led
to another, I standing up for my nephew and
his chums; and Marcus declaring that he’d wager
a big sum he could hoodwink the whole lot of
you.”

“He did, and he didn’t!” broke in Will, just
then.

“Finally it was settled that the wager should
be along these lines,” Mr. Milton went on to say;
“I was to write the letter I did, and which was
partly dictated by Marcus himself. Then later, he
was to meet you on the trip, and in some way
manage to accompany you, in spite of my request
that you take no passengers, and least of all the
man called Marcus Stackpole. If he was aboard
the boat when you came into New Orleans, with
or without your knowledge, I was to lose; but if
he found himself unable to get aboard, or stay
there to the end after making a lodgment, Marcus
was to admit that he was beaten. That’s the story
in a nutshell.”

“Then you must have heard from him, sir,”
remarked Frank; “how we finally left him behind
at Memphis, after penetrating his disguise?”

“Yes, he wrote me about it, and here is his
letter. Let me read it to you, for it is really very
short; and afterwards you’re to spend hours telling
me everything that happened from the hour
you left St. Paul up to the time you landed here in
New Orleans.”

“Agreed, Uncle!” cried the delighted Will.

So Uncle Felix, with many chuckles, as though
he thoroughly enjoyed the affair, especially the
way it terminated, opened a crumpled sheet of
paper, and read aloud:

---------

“After all my boasting in previous letters how
cleverly I was hoodwinking those wonderfully
smart boys of yours, Felix, blessed if they didn’t
see my lead, and go me one better. Here I am,
stranded in Memphis, with ten dollars thrust into
my pocket, and a note telling me that they are on
to my little game, and bidding me good-by. No
use trying to deceive them again, and I own up
beaten. They’re a fine, manly lot of young chaps,
and I’ve grown to love them as if they were my
own boys during the time I’ve been watching
them. Just now I must chase across to Chattanooga
to settle a matter that had been suddenly
thrust upon me; but if they are still with you in
Orleans when I get there, it will be the greatest
pleasure of my life to renew my acquaintance with
Frank, Jerry, Bluff, and not forgetting your
nephew Will.

“Your old campmate,

.. class:: right small-caps

   “Marcus Stackpole.”

By this time all the boys wore wide grins, just
as though they felt like shaking hands with each
other, in congratulation over the fact that, after
all their narrow escapes, they had in the end
caused this friend of Uncle Felix to lose his
wager.

And they were still in the strange old city of
the lower Mississippi at the time Marcus Stackpole,
whom they had known as Luther Snow,
arrived. All of them were very glad to meet him
again, for, as has been mentioned more than once,
the boys realized that there had been something
attractive about the passenger who came to them
in such a singular way.

Many were the laughs that went around, when
the story was retold; especially as Frank related
how he set a little trap for Luther, to find out
whether he had ever been a carpenter; because
his hands looked too free from calloused spots,
such as might have been expected upon the palms
of one who had to earn his daily bread at carpenter
work.

“That’s a good one on you, Marcus,” declared
Uncle Felix; “the idea of you choosing that vocation
on the spur of the moment, when you are
the poorest joiner I ever knew. No wonder a
sharp lad, like Frank here, could trip you up.
But on the whole, I think you have all enjoyed
your vacation immensely; and you’ll go back to
college more than willing to work because of the
good time you’ve had; eh, boys?”

Upon that they were all agreed, and there was
no hesitation about telling Uncle Felix so.

“Perhaps, when your next vacation comes
around, we can have something else hatched up
that will give you an equal amount of pleasure,”
the other continued, for it was evident that he
had become very fond of Will and his chums
during the week they had been with him.

And the reader may be sure that if fortune is
so kind as to allow the Outdoor Chums further
chances to enjoy an adventurous trip like those
they have known in the past it will give us
pleasure to write of the occasion, so that a host
of friends may enjoy it with us. Until such time
comes, then, we must say good-by.

.. class:: center

   THE END

|
|
|
|
|

.. _pg_end_line:

\*\*\* END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT \*\*\*

.. backmatter::

.. toc-entry::
   :depth: 0

.. _pg-footer:

A Word from Project Gutenberg
=============================

We will update this book if we find any errors.

This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35831

Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one
owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and
you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set
forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to
protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project
Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge
for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not
charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is
very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as
creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research.
They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do
practically *anything* with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
redistribution.


.. _Project Gutenberg License:

The Full Project Gutenberg License
----------------------------------

*Please read this before you distribute or use this work.*

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free
distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project
Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at
http://www.gutenberg.org/license.


Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

**1.A.** By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™
electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your
possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by
the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

**1.B.** “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be
used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works
even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic
works. See paragraph 1.E below.

**1.C.** The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the
Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual
works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United
States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a
right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free
access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works
in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project
Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with
the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format
with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it
without charge with others.



**1.D.** The copyright laws of the place where you are located also
govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most
countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the
United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms
of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
other Project Gutenberg™ work.  The Foundation makes no
representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
country outside the United States.

**1.E.** Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

**1.E.1.** The following sentence, with active links to, or other
immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear
prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work
on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the
phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed,
performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
  almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
  re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
  with this eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org

**1.E.2.** If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating
that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work
can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without
paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing
access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with
or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements
of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of
the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in
paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

**1.E.3.** If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is
posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and
distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and
any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted
with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of
this work.

**1.E.4.** Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project
Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a
part of this work or any other work associated with Project
Gutenberg™.

**1.E.5.** Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute
this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg™ License.

**1.E.6.** You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other
than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official
version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site
(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or
expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a
means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original
“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include
the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

**1.E.7.** Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works
unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

**1.E.8.** You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided
that

.. class:: open

- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
  the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you
  already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to
  the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to
  donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg
  Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60
  days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally
  required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments
  should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg
  Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4,
  “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
  Archive Foundation.”

- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™
  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™
  works.

- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
  receipt of the work.

- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
  distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

**1.E.9.** If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than
are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and
Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact
the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.

**1.F.**

**1.F.1.** Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend
considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe
and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™
collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic
works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
your equipment.

**1.F.2.** LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the
“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the
Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a
Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
DAMAGE.

**1.F.3.** LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
without further opportunities to fix the problem.

**1.F.4.** Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set
forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH
NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

**1.F.5.** Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
remaining provisions.

**1.F.6.** INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation,
the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance
with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™
electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or
additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any
Defect you cause.


Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of
electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s
goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain
freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To
learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and
how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the
Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org .


Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the
Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to
the full extent permitted by U.S.  federal laws and your state's laws.

The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr.
S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are
scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is
located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801)
596-1887, email business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date
contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
official page at http://www.pglaf.org

For additional contact information:

 | Dr. Gregory B. Newby
 | Chief Executive and Director
 | gbnewby@pglaf.org


Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread
public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing
the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely
distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of
equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to
$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status
with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
donate, please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate


Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````


Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™
concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed
editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the
U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
edition.

Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
compressed (zipped), HTML and others.

Corrected *editions* of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is
renamed. *Versions* based on separate sources are treated as new
eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.

Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
facility:

  http://www.gutenberg.org
            
This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including
how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe
to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.