The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat: or, The Rivals of the Mississippi

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.