Books: The House Boat Boys
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St. George Rathborne >> The House Boat Boys
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"Second the motion," quickly added Thad.
"All right. I'll rig up our endless carry then, while you clear
the table, after you get enough to eat," and Maurice went out on
the deck, where he could be heard working with the little tender.
Thad looked after him, and scratched his head. Then he did a most
extraordinary thing, which was nothing more or less than reaching
down and taking the packet from the hole in the wall, stripping
the cover from the book, and wrapping up a piece of wood in its
place.
Then he thrust the deception in the hole, and after a look about
him hid the diary, with its precious contents, INSIDE THE
COFFEEPOT, which he had emptied of its contents, and cleaned.
Perhaps he was playing a practical joke on his chum; but his face
was too sober to indicate this.
The probability was that Thad felt uneasy, and as both of them
were apt to be away from the craft at the same time, in the
process of wood gathering, he intended to make things as secure as
possible during his absence.
Which was conclusive evidence that at least he had not changed his
mind concerning the fact of a human face having been pressed
against that little window on the previous night.
CHAPTER XIV.
"MOREHEAD--OR BUST!"
When Thad came out he found that his comrade had gone ashore,
taking the ax with him.
Indeed, the sound of lusty blows told that he was already hard at
work, securing a supply of the necessary fuel.
Thad shut the door of the cabin.
He would have locked it, no doubt, only that it happened Maurice
had the key in his pocket just then.
So Thad shrugged his shoulders, and dragging the little ferry-boat
over the twenty feet of water he pulled himself ashore.
It was easy to locate the chopper by the sounds that arose; and so
he soon joined his mate, ready to spell him in the labor entailed
by the necessity for fuel.
The wood burned so quickly, with a strong draught always causing
the stove to roar, that large quantities of fuel were absolutely
necessary.
Both boys handled an ax first-rate, and indeed, Thad could equal
many an experienced woodsman in the accuracy of his strokes; while
Maurice was not far behind him.
When the chance came, and Maurice stopped for a breathing spell,
the second relay came into action; and once more the chips flew as
the fallen oak branches were cut into stove lengths.
By the time it came Thad's turn again to rest he wandered off,
much to the amusement of Maurice, who knew whither his thoughts
must be roving.
Just as he swung the ax above his head for a downward stroke he
received an electric shock.
Thad was calling his name, calling in an excited tone, too, as if
there was dire need of the other's presence.
"Bring the gun! bring the gun!"
That seemed to be the tenor of the shouts; and as he dropped his
tool Maurice swooped up the Marlin, which was standing against an
adjoining tree, and jumped for the river bank.
He knew that whatever had happened Thad wanted him at the water's
edge; and it was in that direction he hastened as fast as his legs
could carry him.
Twice in his haste he fell down, tripping over trailing vines; for
the continued shouts of his chum startled him.
And when he burst out of the thicket, to stand on the river bank,
close to where Thad was yelling, this was what he saw:
A row-boat was speeding down the river, urged on by the lusty
movements of a red-headed man who was sitting in it; Thad danced
about on the deck of the swamp, pointing after the fleeing party,
and calling on Maurice to "give him both barrels, the thief!"
But Maurice knew that it was useless, since the other was by this
time out of range, and the gun contained only small shot.
Nevertheless, urged on by the frantic appeals of Thad he did level
the Marlin, and bang away, though he saw the man duck down before
the reports came.
After the bombardment was over the redhead again poked into view,
and the fugitive made a movement with his hand to indicate his
poor opinion of such useless business.
Maurice, fearing the worst, began to drag the boat in to shore.
Dixie, having been drawn from his prowling around in search of
game by the shouts and shots, leaped in even before the little
dinghy had reached the bank.
By the time Maurice climbed out on the deck Thad seemed to have
recovered from his excitement to some extent.
"Didn't I tell you I saw a face, and wasn't it a sorrel-top, too?
Mebbe you'll believe me next time, my boy," he said, impressively.
"Where was he, and what was he doing?" demanded Maurice, showing
signs of alarm, and looking a bit weak as he contemplated the
grave consequences that might follow this raid.
"In the cabin, of course, and making himself at home. He had his
boat on the other side there, so I never suspected anything wrong
till he dashed out, jumped into it, and pulled like everything."
"Were you on board then?" asked Maurice.
"Just climbing on deck when he came jumping out like a whirlwind."
"Perhaps you disturbed him in his game then?" suggested Maurice
making a bee-line for the open door.
When a few seconds later the other followed him it was to see
Maurice on hands and knees before the little opening in the wall
of the cabin, thrusting in his arm as far as he could.
"Oh! Thad, it's gone--the thief got away with poor Bunny's money!"
he was exclaiming, his voice full of horror.
"Well, he would have hooked it, only for something I did that
you'd have called silly if you'd seen me!"
And with this complacent remark Thad coolly walked over to the
shelf where some of their cooking utensils stood, took down the
battered old coffeepot, and throwing back the lid, thrust his hand
inside.
The astonished eyes of his mate followed each little proceeding
with rare interest; and when Maurice saw the well remembered diary
of old appear, which being opened disclosed the lovely yellowbacks
nestling within, he gave a shout twice repeated, while he swung
his hat around his head.
"Bully for you, Thad! I take it all back, every word! It surely
does pay to be cautious, even if people call you an old woman.
Only for that he might have found the money; and then how mean
we'd feel. Tell me what you did. He acted like he was satisfied
he'd done a big thing."
"Well, perhaps he knows better now, if he's had time to tear open
the package I put in place of this book; for it was a nice fat
sliver of wood!" laughed Thad.
Thereupon Maurice grappled him with a bear-like hug, and waltzed
him out on deck, to the intense delight of Dixie, who seemed to
think all this demonstration must be for his benefit, for he set
up a furious barking and snapped at the heels of the dancing boys.
When they went ashore again things were left differently. The
cabin door was locked, with Dixie inside. They could depend on his
snappy barking to give warning of any uninvited guest aboard.
But the wood-cutting proceeded without further alarm.
True, Thad was so nervous over the matter that he insisted on
carrying what fuel they had cut down to the dinghy every little
while, just so he could call out to the yellow cur, and have him
give a reassuring bark.
And finally the several loads had been safely ferried across the
watery gap, so that the cruisers were ready to start moving.
The anchor was raised by means of a primitive but effective
derrick Maurice had devised. This he also made use of in handling
the square fish net which could be dropped over the side, baited,
and then lifted half an hour later, with more or less generous
results. Of course this method of fishing was only to be enjoyed
while they were at anchor. It is in general use along the Ohio
river; and indeed, Maurice had even seen pictures of the same
thing in the magazine lying on the table, and which illustrated
queer doings far off in Uncle Sam's Philippine possessions.
Once again they were floating southward, with a moving panorama of
shore to interest them.
Maurice was figuring on the swiftness of the current, just how
many miles an hour it ran at this point, and when they were likely
to bring up at Morehead.
"I think we ought to make it by sun-down, Thad," he finally
announced, after finishing his complicated calculations.
"You make me feel good, partner, when you say that," returned his
chum, who was handling the sweep and keeping the boat a certain
distance from the shore, where they could get the full benefit of
the current without taking undue risks of being swept out on the
broad bosom of the majestic river.
"Yes, I know what's on your mind. You'd like to get rid of our
responsibility, and hand that packet over to Bunny," remarked
Maurice.
"Wonder what she's like; sounds as if she might be a little girl;
but that couldn't be, for she was his daughter," Thad said.
"Yes, and has three kids, the book said. Oh! that must have been a
pet name for her when she was little. The chances are well find
her a strapping big woman, something like that one we bought our
last loaf of bread from."
"Well, she won't take after her pa then, that's all, Maurice."
"Why, was he small," asked the other.
"I always thought so, for a man; not quite as tall as I am; and
with a voice like a lady's. I liked old The; and I wish he had
only lived long enough to deliver his own money to Bunny," Thad
went on.
"I was wondering where that fellow came from, Thad."
"Who, our visitor of last night and this morning? Oh! I suppose
he's got a shack somewhere below here, and was on the way home
from an up-river town when he sighted our craft, and crept aboard
to see if there was anything he could pick up."
"That's about the right thing. Say, I bet he was hopping mad when
he tore open that package, and saw what he had drawn in the
lottery, eh, Thad?"
"Mad would never fill the bill. I hope he don't wait up for us,
and give us a shot or two wlien we sail past his cabin. I'd hate
the worst kind to have my skin filled with shot; and nobody could
ever prove who did it. That's one reason why I've steered further
away from the bank than we generally keep, you notice, Maurice,"
"Well, that's level old head on your shoulders, my boy. The fellow
who gets you napping will have to tumble out of bed right early in
the morning, I reckon," laughed Maurice, patting his chum
patronizingly on the shoulders.
"And I keep one eye on the shore, too, pretty much all the time.
Just let me see anybody moving, and I'm ready to drop flat till
the storm rolls by. What's that over there right now, Maurice?"
He pointed with quivering finger at some object that seemed to be
bending down the bushes on a certain projecting point which they
happened to be approaching.
"Don't worry; it's all right. That is only a cow, for you can see
her horns from here, Thad."
"But seeing horns sometimes spells trouble. They say the devil
mounts a fine pair, you know. A cow, Maurice, means human kind
near by; that stands for a cabin; and how do we know but what our
sorrel-top friend of this morning owns the ranch. Just lie down
behind that box, or go into the cabin till we drift past. I'll
feel easier when we leave the thing a mile above."
A hail from the shore presently came floating over the water; but
it was a negro who called, and he only wanted to know if they had
any coffee they would spare him.
Since their entire stock amounted to just enough for a scant week,
with meagre chances for replenishing the caddy when exhausted,
since their funds were very low, of course they had to reply in
the negative.
The darky was inclined to be talkative, as is usually the case,
and even followed them half a mile along the bank, trying to find
some basis for a dicker.
"Thank goodness he can't cross that creek!" exclaimed Maurice, as
they passed the mouth of quite a good sized stream that flowed
into the enormous river, adding its mite to the gigantic flood.
The colored gentleman looked as though it would only require the
least encouragement for him to step in and swim across; but as
this was not forthcoming he waved his ebony arm in farewell and
turned back again.
Thad breathed easier.
Nevertheless, for hours he continued to scan the shore-line ahead;
and once, when some unseen hunter fired at some sort of game back
from the river's edge, the sweep-tender was seen to duck his head
mechanically, much to the amusement of his companion.
The day grew old, and they had made uninterrupted progress, not
even stopping for the midday meal. While Thad held the long oar
his mate slung some sort of a hot meal together, which satisfied
their voracious appetites and warmed them as well.
"Where's your storm?" asked Thad, about the middle of the
afternoon, as he glanced up at the sky.
"Here, you're squinting in the wrong direction, man. Suppose you
look to the southward, a little veering toward the west. Don't you
glimpse some dark clouds there?"
"Of course," Thad agreed; "but that's a poor sign. Why, you can
nearly always see some clouds hanging low down there. It's been
getting warmed right smart. That sun feels almost hot to me."
"That's a pretty good sign of rain, that seldom fails. But what do
we care! Our roof don't leak, Thad!"
"No, but it will be tough if the downpour comes just when we want
to look for George Stormways and Bunny. I suppose, though, we
could tie up at Morehead and wait till it passes by."
"Hope we haven't passed it already," said Maurice, looking
serious.
"Oh! I don't think that could be possible, do you? If the place is
big enough to get marked on the chart, it ought to be of a size
for two fellows to see it in passing. And the two landings we did
notice were other settlements, for we asked their names. One man
said Morehead was below a piece. I'm expecting to see it soon."
"Suppose we don't till dark?" remarked Thad, always on the lookout
for trouble. "What are you going to do then?"
"Keep right along, sonny, until we see lights, when we can push in
and tie up. It's Morehead or bust!"
"All right, you're the skipper, I told you, Maurice. The cook has
ideas of his own, but he ain't going to run counter of an
experienced navigator like the boss. But I hope we come across
that station before dark. You know the moon don't rise till about
nine now; so we can count on several hours of black sailing."
Thad said no more, neither did his comrade make any attempt to
continue the argument; for both of them were still hoping that
Morehead would consent to show up inside of another hour.
But for some reason distances seemed unduly lengthened on this
particular day, and the gloaming swooped down upon them with the
coveted goal still undiscovered ahead.
Maurice was grimly set upon keeping his word.
As a usual thing they discouraged night traveling on the great
river, because of the aggravated perils involved; but this was a
case that was out of the common.
Thad went in to look after the wood fire, and wrestle with the
problem of what to have with the baked 'possum, that had been
cooking much of the afternoon.
There were no sweet potatoes now, since the last one had been
devoured on the preceding day; so after mature thought the cook
was compelled to put on some "grits," as they fortunately still
had quite a little stock of this famous Southern staple, which in
the North goes by the name of hominy alone.
He hoped that by the time supper was ready they might have reached
their haven; either that, or the determination of Maurice to keep
moving have suffered a change. If it were otherwise they must eat
one at a time, while the other attended to the sweep, and kept
watch and ward.
He had things pretty well along when a welcome shout from the
pilot outside came to his ears.
"What ho?" asked Thad, as he thrust his head out of the cabin
door.
"Lights ahead on the shore, and I reckon we must be close on that
old Morehead," returned Maurice.
"I can hear roustabouts chanting," said the cook, as he bent his
ear; "and I bet you that's a steamboat getting wood aboard."
"Wouldn't be surprised. If it is, then that place is Morehead.
Perhaps this George Stormways may be in charge of the woodyard.
Anyhow I reckon we're going to learn something about him here; and
now you see that my idea of keeping right along drifting was the
correct one after all."
"I suppose so. I hope the steamer don't take a notion to move off
while we're passing. I wouldn't like to take the responsibility of
ramming and sinking her, you know, Maurice."
"Get in nearer the shore, and we'll drop anchor above the landing.
If we do that we needn't worry, because you see she's bound to
lean away from land when she starts. That's the ticket. Get in the
push!"
Thad had picked up the pole with which they were able in shallow
water to urge the shanty-boat toward the shore; he could reach
bottom easily, and under his efforts, as well as the swing of the
current, and the inclination of the sweep, the Tramp soon gained
an offing in water that was not more than three feet in depth.
The two boys could easily see the exciting scene as a line of
black ran on board the steam-boat, each carrying two or more
sticks of wood on his head, and keeping rhythmic time to the
droning chant which every man joined in.
Lanterns and blazing torches made of fat pine knots lit up the
weird scene; and taking it in all, they would not have missed it
for considerable.
"There goes the pilot's bell--they're off!" exclaimed Maurice, as
the line ceased pouring over the guards of the steamboat; then
came a loud and hoarse whistle, after which steam began to hiss
and the stern wheel to churn the waters of the mighty Mississippi.
"Now it's our turn," laughed Maurice, prepared to drop down to the
landing, where a fire burned and threw a glare around.
CHAPTER XV.
THAD GETS A SHOCK.
The arrival of the little Tramp did not create anything like the
commotion which marked the landing of the big stern-wheel river
steam-boat.
A few darkies idling on the shore drew near, filled with curiosity
when they discovered that only two boys comprised the crew of the
floating craft; and Dixie barked strenuously at them, as if to let
the community know that while the shanty-boat failed to possess a
whistle, it was not without some means of announcing its arrival.
Thad threw a rope ashore to one of these blacks, who whipped it
about a post, and the boat presently lay alongside the landing.
"You go ashore and ask questions."
It was Thad who said this, because he knew his chum was so much
better able to probe things than himself.
"All right," replied Maurice, readily, "and you can look after the
boat; though likely enough none of these fellows will try to run
away with it."
"Well, I don't mean to give them half a chance. Just think what
would become of us if such a thing happened. We'd have to go to
work on a cotton plantation, sure, to make money enough to get
further along. I've got the good old Marlin handy, Maurice, and
just let any thief try to come aboard, that's all. I'll pepper his
hide for him, and salt it in the bargain," declared Thad,
resolutely.
"I believe you would, boy," laughed his comrade, as he stepped
from the deck to the shore.
He had already noted that Morehead did not appear to be much of a
place. Indeed, beyond the piles of cordwood, and a few scattered
cabins, there did not seem to be anything of a settlement.
"Only excuse it has for being on the map is that some steamers
find it convenient to stop and wood up here. That woodyard is the
whole thing," thought Maurice. He turned upon the negro who had
whipped the cable around the post in an obliging way.
"Where can I find the man who runs the woodyard?" he asked.
"'Deed, I reckon he am in hees store dar, boss," came the reply.
"A store, eh? Where is it situated?" continued Maurice, bent on
following up the clue.
"See dat flare up yander--dat am de light in de windy. Mars Kim he
keep gen'ral 'sortment ob goods. On'y place to buy grits in ten
mile," observed the other, pointing.
"What is his name?" asked the boy, deeming it only right that he
should be fully armed with this much information before starting
in to interview the other.
"Mars Kim, fuh sho'! Dat's wat we allers calls him, boss. Reckons,
as how yuh haint gut sech a ting as some terbaccy 'bout yuh, now?
I'se done clean out."
Maurice shook his head in the negative.
"I'm sorry, but you see, I don't smoke," he remarked.
He would have willingly tossed the moke a nickel for his readiness
to assist them; but truth to tell, even such small coin happened
to be at a premium with the voyagers just then--although they
carried a small fortune in yellowbacks, not for worlds would they
think of making use of a single bill for their own benefit--it was
a sacred trust in their eyes.
He strode over to the building where the brilliant light in the
window announced headquarters. Closer investigation disclosed the
fact that the glow was caused by an acetylene lamp which piece of
enterprise doubtless caused the storekeeper to assume a high place
in the estimation of the lazy negroes, and shiftless "white trash"
of the neighborhood.
It was a general country store.
Maurice had seen many such, though, as this one happened to be at
a point much further south than the others, it doubtless contained
features that stamped it unique in his eyes.
But they had no money to spend in groceries just then; and it was
an entirely different errand that caused him to venture into the
establishment.
Over the door he noticed a sign which he was just able to read.
It at least gave him the name of the proprietor.
Store, and Office of Woodyard. Kim. Stallings, Prop.
A gawky clerk, undoubtedly of the "cracker" persuasion, was
waiting on several dusky customers, and vainly endeavoring to keep
them in a clump, as if he feared to let the bunch scatter, lest
certain unprotected articles vanish with their departure.
Looking further Maurice discovered that over in one quarter there
seemed to be a sort of enclosure, over which was the significant
notice "P. O."
He could see that some one was behind the gaudy brass grillwork;
and believing that this was likely to be the proprietor, engaged
in entering upon his books that late delivery of cordwood to the
steamboat, the boy moved that way.
As he stood there in front of the little opening the man beyond
looked up. He seemed surprised to see a stranger.
"Evenin', sah. What can I do foh you?" he asked politely, upon
discovering that it was a white person.
"Is this Mr. Stallings?" asked Maurice.
"Yes, sah, that is my name," replied the other, curiously.
"I have just come off a shanty-boat that is tied up here. I have a
chum with me on the boat. We want to find a man by the name of
George Stormways. Can you tell me if he happens to live near by?"
"Huh!"
The owner of the woodyard and country store bent forward still
more and took a closer look at the speaker. It seemed to Maurice
as though Mr. Stallings had suddenly become more deeply interested
in the personality of the stranger, though he could not give even
a guess just why that should be so.
"George Stormways," repeated Maurice, slowly and deliberately, as
though he wanted the other to fully understand.
"Why, yes he gits his mail hyah, sah; leastways, he allers used
tuh come hyah tuh trade, when he had any money. George worked foh
me a long spell, till the shakes knocked him out," said the other,
finally.
Maurice had been studying the man. He believed he could see
honesty in his thin sallow face, but hesitated to say anything
about the real motive that influenced himself and chum to stop in
order to hunt up George Stormways.
Such a secret had better be confined to as few persons as
possible. Still, that would not prevent him from saying that he
had some good news for the man he sought.
"How far away from the Landing does he live, Mr. Stallings?" he
asked, promptly.
"Reckons as how it air all o' fo' mile, sah. An' in the present
disturbed condition o' the country, mebbe, sah, it would be wise
foh you to defer yuh visit thah to mawnin'," came the reply.
"I reckon we'll have to, sir, if we can tie up below the landing
without getting in the way. We want to see George and his wife the
worst kind, and couldn't think of going on down the river without
making a big effort to do so. Yes, we'll spend a day at Morehead,
and get acquainted. I only wish we were better supplied with cash,
so we might trade with you; but just now it happens we're on rock
bottom."
The other seemed to be fairly consumed by curiosity. Never before
had he known such a bright lad to be drifting south on a shanty-
boat. Usually those aboard such craft were seasoned river
travelers, men who lived on the water, "Mississippi tramps," as
they are called, some of whom MIGHT be honest, though he judged
the entire lot by the character of a few, and they the worst.
But here was a bright, wide-awake boy, with a face that somehow
interested him, despite his inborn suspicion.
"What did yuh say yuh name might be, sah?" he asked.
"I didn't happen to mention it, but it is Maurice Pemberton. We
are both natives of Kentucky, and on the way to New Orleans to
meet my uncle, who is captain of a big steamer, due there in
February."
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