полная версия

Munroe Kirk
Raftmates: A Story of the Great River

CHAPTER XXIX.
BIM BRINGS ABOUT A JOYFUL MEETING

Even with Bim's aid, Billy Brackett failed to find the man who had escaped him in Alton by running through the store and out of its back door. The young engineer was convinced that he was one of those who had stolen the raft, and it was certainly very trying to recover the trail, as he had just done, only to lose it again immediately. So loath was he to abandon the search that it was very nearly noon before he did so, and retraced his steps to the river. As he approached the place where the Whatnot had been moored, he was surprised not to see the boat, and turned towards a group of men, all of whom seemed to be talking at once, to make inquiries. At that moment the group opened, and from it Cap'n Cod, red-faced and anxious, came hastily stumping in his direction.

"Where is the Whatnot?" asked Billy Brackett.

"That's what I want to know," replied the other, excitedly. "And where have you been all this time? I have been here, and in a state of mind, for more than an hour, not knowing what to do. Some of these men say they saw three fellows go off with the boat soon after we left here, and of course I thought they must be you, Winn, and Solon; but I couldn't understand it at all. Now that you are here, I understand it still less. Where is Winn?" Here the old man paused, quite out of breath, but still questioning his companion with anxious eyes.

"I haven't seen anything of Winn since we all left the boat," replied Billy Brackett, who could hardly comprehend the startling information just given him. "Do you mean to say that the Whatnot has been stolen? Great Scott! I wonder if those fellows can have had a hand in it?"

"What fellows?"

Then Billy Brackett told of his fleeting glimpse of Plater, and of his consequent belief that the raft and all three of the "river-traders" must be in that vicinity.

"There's a raft, with three men aboard it, who call themselves 'river-traders,' moored at the edge of that timber, just below the city," volunteered one of the by-standers, who had overheard the young man's remarks.

"Will you go with me and point it out?" asked Billy Brackett, eagerly.

"Yes, I don't mind, seeing that this weather makes a bit of slack time," replied the man.

So requesting Cap'n Cod to wait there until his return, and promising to be back as quickly as possible, the young engineer and his guide, followed by several curiosity-seekers, started in search of the raft. It is needless to say that they failed to find it, though another hour elapsed before Billy Brackett returned. He was disappointed, but was possessed of a theory.

"I believe Winn has found that raft," he said to Cap'n Cod, as they sat together in the small hotel to which they had repaired for a consultation and dinner. "But he probably discovered it just as those fellows, alarmed at meeting me, were putting off for another run down the river. Then he hurried back here, and not finding us, took the responsibility of starting after them in the Whatnot, hoping in that way to keep them in sight. It was a crazy performance, though just such a one as that boy would undertake. He is a splendid fellow, with the one conspicuous failing of believing that he knows what to do under any circumstances just a little better than any one else. So he has persuaded Solon that it is their duty to keep that raft in sight until it is tied up again, and then he'll telegraph to us. It is more than likely that the raft will stop at St. Louis, in which case they must be nearly there by this time, and we ought to hear from Winn very soon. That is my theory, and now I'll run up to the telegraph office and see if a despatch has come."

There was no message for any one named Brackett, and so, after leaving word to have anything that came for him sent to the hotel, the young man hastened back. An up-river steamboat had just made fast to the levee, and the two anxious men went down to see if her pilot had seen anything of the Whatnot. As they approached they saw by her splintered bows that she had been in a collision. Others had noticed this also, and already a crowd of people was gathered about her gang-plank to learn the news. Forcing a way through for himself and Cap'n Cod, Billy Brackett boarded the boat, and went directly to the Captain's room.

The Captain was inclined to be ugly and uncommunicative; but, with a happy thought, Billy Brackett displayed the badge with which Sheriff Riley had provided him. At sight of it the man at once expressed his readiness to impart all the information they might require.

Yes, he had been in collision with a trading-scow, but there were no lives lost, and the damage had already been satisfactorily settled. It happened a couple of miles above St. Louis, and the fog was so thick that she was not seen until they were right on her. She was crossing the channel, and they struck her amidship, sinking her almost instantly.

Her name? Why, according to this paper, it was the Whatnot. Queer sort of a name, and she looked to be a queer sort of craft.

At this Billy Brackett's face grew very pale, while poor Cap'n Cod sank into a chair and groaned.

"No lives lost, you say? What then became of the people who were on board that trading-scow?"

"There were only three," answered the Captain; "her owner, a Mr. Caspar, a deck hand, and the cook, a black fellow. The first two saved themselves by leaping aboard this boat just as she struck, and we picked the nigger up in the skiff that we immediately lowered to look for survivors."

"You say the owner was a Mr. Caspar?"

"Yes, here is the name signed to this paper. You see, though we were in no way to blame, they might have sued for heavy damages and bothered us considerably. So when her owner offered to compromise and waive all claims for three hundred dollars, I thought it was the cheapest way out of the scrape, and took him up. I had this paper prepared by a lawyer who is on board, and witnessed before a notary, so that it is all square and ship-shape. See, here is Mr. Caspar's signature."

Sure enough, there at the bottom of the paper exhibited by the Captain was the name "Winn Caspar," written clearly and boldly. It certainly looked like Winn's signature.

Billy Brackett was staggered. What could it all mean? Something was evidently wrong; but what it was he could not determine.

"Where is this Mr. Caspar now?" he asked.

"Went ashore the moment we touched here," was the reply. "Said he must hurry back to St. Louis. Took his man with him."

"Was he a young fellow; a mere boy, in fact?"

"Oh, bless you, no! He was past middle-age. Small, thin man, with a smooth face; and the other was a big man with a beard."

"And what became of the cook, the negro, whom you rescued?"

"He's down below somewhere, getting dry. I told the mate to look after him."

"But where is my niece Sabella? The little girl that was on board the Whatnot," asked Cap'n Cod, with a pitiful quaver in his voice.

"Little girl?" repeated the steamboat Captain, in surprise. "There wasn't any girl on board. This is the first mention I have heard of any such person, and Mr. Caspar would surely have spoken of her if she had existed. What are you men driving at, anyway?"

With a forced calmness, and ignoring this question, Billy Brackett asked if they might see the rescued negro.

"Certainly, I've no objections. Only you'll have to be spry about it, for I'm going to pull out of here inside of a couple of minutes. I only stopped to land Mr. Caspar."

They found Solon just getting into his dried clothing, and the faithful fellow's face lighted as he saw them. There was, however, a reproachful tone in his voice as he exclaimed, "T'ank de Lawd, yo' is safe, Marse Cap'n, an' Marse Brack. Ole Solon feelin' mighty bad when yo' ain't comin' to see him, an' Marse Winn too. But dese yeah folk ain't tellin' me nuffin of Missy Sabel. She gettin' saved same as de res' of us, ain't she? Say de good word, Marse Cap'n, an' don't tell de ole man dat honey lamb done got drownded. Don't tell him dat ar?"

There was no time for explanations then, so they hurried Solon ashore and up to the hotel. There his replies to their questions, and his questions in turn, only served to deepen the mystery in which the fate of the Whatnot's passengers had become involved. He could not be persuaded that they had not been on board at the time of the accident. Sabella had boon talking to him of what her "Uncle Billy" had just told her only a few minutes before it occurred. He was also positive that Winn had been on board the ill-fated craft. He was certain that Reward died at his post of duty, though of Don Blossom's fate he knew nothing. How he himself had escaped he could not explain, for he remembered nothing after the shock of the collision.

"It is evident," said Billy Brackett, at length, "that we must get to St. Louis as quickly as possible, and strive to unravel this mystery there."

Cap'n Cod agreed that this seemed the best thing to be done, and as there was a train about to leave for the South, they hurried to the station.

As Bim was forced to ride in the baggage-car, and his master declined to leave him, both Cap'n Cod and Solon rode there as well. All three spent the hour's run to East St. Louis in discussing the strange occurrences of the day, and trying to discover some ground for belief that either Winn or Sabella, or both, might still be alive. In this effort they met with so little success that, by the time they reached their destination, they had wellnigh abandoned all hope of ever again seeing either the boy or girl who were so dearly loved.

Poor Cap'n Cod was broken-hearted, while Billy Brackett resolutely refused to think of the sad telegram he must send back to Caspar's Mill.

If it had not been that Bim compelled them to ride in the baggage-car, they might have discovered the two "river-traders," Grimshaw and Plater, who were also on the train. Bim did discover them on the platform at East St. Louis, and he was in the act of springing towards Mr. Plater, when the old negro Clod stumbled over his chain and into Solon's arms.

In his joyful excitement at this wonderful meeting with the brother whom he had never expected to see again, Clod allowed a slip of paper to fall unheeded to the ground, and Billy Brackett picked it up. He glanced carelessly at it, and then his shout of amazement as he saw written on it the name "Winn Caspar" startled not only his companions, but every one on the station platform.

Two minutes later four excited men, accompanied by a white bull-dog straining at his chain and barking as joyfully as though he understood the whole situation, were hurrying with all speed in the direction of Clod's cabin on the river-bank.

CHAPTER XXX.
IN CLOD'S CABIN

Aunt Viney heard Bim's joyful voice, and glancing anxiously towards the door of the room in which Sabella lay, she muttered, "Drat dat ar dorg! He sholy wake up missy wif he barkin'."

The barking did waken Sabella, and as she lifted her head to listen, she whispered wonderingly to herself, "It's Bim! It's dear old Bim. I know his voice."

Winn, bending wearily over the statement he was preparing for the police, heard the barking, and looked up with a startled expression on his troubled face. "If I didn't know that it couldn't be, I should say that was Bim's bark. Poor old dog!" he thought.

The next instant he sprang to his feet with a cry. Could the dead come to life? Could the drowned be resurrected? Could the handsome, smiling, eager figure in the doorway be that of the young uncle whose untimely death he had so truly mourned? A quick step, a joyful shout, and the two were face to face, with hand clasped in hand.

"It has been a terrible lesson, Uncle Billy, but I think I have learned it," said Winn.

"Thank God, my dear boy, that the experience has been gained so cheaply; for I feared it had cost you your life."

"But where is my little one, my Sabella?" asked Cap'n Cod, anxiously. "They told me she was here."

"Here I am, Uncle Aleck," came the dear voice from the inner room. Then there was another glad reunion of those who had thought never again to meet in this life; while the old man counted as nothing the loss of all he had possessed, so long as this child was left to him.

When Aunt Viney was told who Solon was, she made him a deep courtesy, and then, with tears streaming down her cheeks, she began to sing:

 
"Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
 

Before she finished the first line they were all singing with her, and never did this grand old hymn of thanksgiving find a more fervent utterance.

As for Bim, there never was a happier bull-dog in this world. He barked as long as his voice held out, and jumped up on every one, and tore wildly about the room until his chain fastened itself to a table leg. Then, with a few spoke-like revolutions, he became completely wound up, and lay panting on the floor, only waiting to be released that he might again go through with the entire performance.

After comparative quiet had been restored, though every one was still talking at once, the questions arose, "Who saved Sabella? Was any one drowned? If so, who was it? Did Winn bring the Whatnot down the river? If not, how did he reach the scene of the catastrophe? How did the boy's signature happen to be attached to the paper in possession of the steamboat Captain?" These and a dozen other questions were asked in a breath, and then all began to answer them at once. Finally, Billy Brackett called the meeting to order, and asked each one to tell his story in turn, beginning with Cap'n Cod.

The most interesting stories, and those throwing the most light on the situation, were Winn's and Sabella's. At first they were all puzzled to know who Mr. Gresham could have been. Then Sabella said, "Why, don't you know, Uncle Aleck? He was the one who sold you the canoe, and the one Winn said was a bad man. He brought Don Blossom back, and I told him all about Mr. Brackett and Winn and the raft and everything, and he was so glad he started right off to find them. Then he came back with two other men, and said you were all on the raft, and they borrowed the Whatnot to go and find you with. He was one of the very nicest and kindest and best men I ever knew, and was going to be my 'Uncle Billy,' so I could have one as well as Winn, and now he's drowned, and—"

Here the little girl began to sob bitterly, while Billy Brackett and Winn and Cap'n Cod looked at each other, and almost simultaneously pronounced the name "Gilder."

They did not speak it very loud, for the last splendid act of the man's life had won for him the right to an unstained name. Hereafter they would only remember him as William Gresham the hero.

Thus was cleared up most of the mystery that, like the fog, had enveloped the proceedings of that memorable day.

Now what was to be done next? Where was the raft, and was it the Venture or not? At one moment Winn was certain that it was, while the next found him again doubtful.

At length it was decided that Solon should remain with his brother for the present, while the others should go to a hotel in the city across the river. From there Billy Brackett would telegraph to the authorities of towns farther down, asking them to watch for an abandoned raft, and if they found it to hold it until he could go on and prove ownership. The raft being described as belonging to a Major Caspar, Winn's name was signed to all these despatches, in order to prevent confusion.

From the hotel Billy Brackett also thought it best to telegraph Major Caspar of their safe arrival in St. Louis, though, as they had not yet recovered the raft, it would be unnecessary for him to come on, and a promise to write full particulars at once. In the Major's absence from home this despatch was opened by Mrs. Caspar, who had been growing very anxious of late concerning the voyagers on the great river. The moment she read it she sat down and wrote another despatch to her husband, who was in Chicago. It was:

"Raftmates in St. Louis. Southern Hotel. Please join them immediately."

"Just ten words," she said to herself, with a complacent sigh, as she handed this to the waiting messenger. "Now if John acts promptly, he may catch those crazy boys before they have the chance to start off on any other absurd expedition. I only hope to goodness that he'll have the sense to bring them home, and let that wretched raft drift where it likes."

Major Caspar could not start for St. Louis the next day, but he did so on the following morning, and late that same evening he walked into the office of the Southern Hotel. He was beginning to make inquiries at the desk, when his hand was seized and violently shaken. Turning quickly, he at once recognized his faithful old army friend Cap'n Cod, and gave him a cordial greeting.

"But where are the others?" he inquired at length.

"Gone down the river an hour ago, by the Short Line," was the unexpected reply. "You see, we only got word this evening that an abandoned raft, answering our description, had just been picked up near Cairo, and Mr. Brackett thought it best that he and Winn should go on at once to indentify it. It was also decided that Sabella and I should remain here until we heard from them, because it might not be the Venture, you know, and then I'm not sure that we want to go any farther down the river, anyway. You see, since losing the Whatnot, I've rather lost interest—"

"Losing the Whatnot!" interrupted the Major. "What do you mean?"

"Why, haven't you heard?" Then they sat down, and the old man related all that had happened to the Whatnot and her passengers since leaving Dubuque.

When the recital was ended, the Major drew a long breath, and exclaimed, "Well, for mysterious happenings, incidents, and rapid changes of scene, that beats anything in the line of Mississippi rafting that ever I heard of. So now they are off again, and goodness knows what scrapes they will get into next; while here I am, as helpless to prevent them as an old hen with a brood of ducklings. There is one thing I can do, though. I must return to Caspar's Mill at once, and I want you and your niece to go with me. With my recently increased business, I need just such a man as you to look after my home interests, while my daughter Elta, needs just such a girl as your Sabella is described to be for a companion."

Tears stood in the old soldier's eyes as he realized all that this offer meant to him and to the girl who was so dear to him; and, in accepting it, he blessed the kindly heart by which it had been prompted.

The Major sent a despatch to the address in Cairo left by Billy Brackett, directing that young man to dispose of the raft as he thought best, to take care of Winn, come home as soon as they could, and telling of his plans for Cap'n Cod and Sabella. He also telegraphed to Mrs. Caspar that he should be at home the next day but one, bringing strangers with him.

She, of course, thought he meant the "raftmates," as she had called Winn and Billy Brackett from the first, and was amazed to see an old man and a young girl seated in the carriage with her husband as it drove up to the house. At first she was greatly disappointed, but within a few days she became reconciled to the new arrangement, for she could not help loving the gentle old man who was so fond of her boy, nor rejoicing in the warm friendship that almost immediately sprang up between Elta and Sabella.

In the mean time Billy Brackett and Winn reached Cairo early in the morning, and after breakfast at a hotel, they called on the City Marshal, who had sent the despatch relating to the raft. To their surprise, he received them coldly, and informed them that Mr. Caspar had already been there, had expressed his willingness to pay a hundred dollars reward for the recovery of his raft, and had just gone down to take possession of it.

This was an astounding bit of information, and Winn was about to let his rapidly rising indignation break forth, when Billy Brackett restrained him, and asked, mildly, if the Marshal had any objections to their looking at the raft in question simply to gratify their curiosity.

"Oh no. You can look at her as much as you like, and you will find her just around the point there, in possession of the two young men who picked her up—that is, if they haven't already turned her over to her rightful owner."

Again Winn would have exploded, but again his companion restrained him, at the same time leading him from the office.

They found the raft without much difficulty, and walked on board. Just then the broken door of the "shanty" opened, and two young fellows, hardly older than Winn, stepped out. As they did so one of them turned and said, politely, "Well, good-bye, and a pleasant voyage to you, Mr. Caspar." Then they both faced the new-comers.

Such an expression of blank amazement as flashed over their faces Winn thought he had never seen. For an instant they stood spellbound. Then there was a yell of recognition, or rather a chorus of yells from both sides.

"Billy Brackett, as I'm a sinner! Whoop! Hooray for the Baldheads and the Second Division!"

"Billy Brackett, or his ghost!"

"Glen Eddy! Grip, old man! How? When? Where? Why?

 
"'Oh, gimminy crack, come hold me tight.
It makes me laugh and shout.
It fills my heart with gay delight
When—'"