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

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 anchoredPot 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.