CHAPTER XX.
THE THEORY AND THE FACTS.
We spent an hour in searching in every nook and corner of the cabin for the other half of the lost treasure. Cornwood had not been stupid enough to put it under the companion-way; and Nick had been stupid enough to let his companion know where he had hidden his own share. As Colonel Shepard had suggested, it was probable that the Floridian meant to take it before he went on shore at New Orleans. Cornwood had not concealed his share of the treasure in the cabin of the Islander, and we could think of no other place where he was at all likely to deposit it.
"I think he has too long a head to hide his money anywhere," interposed Captain Blastblow. "I should say that any man was a natural fool to hide his money in a vessel, under such circumstances as these fellows came on board of the steamer. In my opinion, he has concealed the money on his person, for you seem to have no doubt that he divided with the young swell."
"That looks very reasonable," added Colonel Shepard. "I think if I had a large sum on board of a vessel, I should provide myself with a money-belt, and keep the treasure in it at all times."
"All we have to do is to search him," said Captain Blastblow. "We shall soon find out whether or not he is a party to the robbery. I suppose there isn't any doubt about the young swell, as the steward called him, and which I think is the best description of him."
"The package, with the two tin plates, precisely answers the description given of it by the man that lost it," I replied. "But I doubt whether we have any right to search Cornwood. We are not officers, and we are now in the State of Louisiana."
"We have as much right to search him as we had to lay hands on him when we came alongside of the Islander," replied Colonel Shepard. "I think we can get at the truth better than any court can. At any rate, he has taken part in stealing my steam-yacht; and I think I have some hold on him. If it turns out that he has not the money on him, I have no doubt I can make it all right with him. I am willing to take the responsibility."
"All right. I will help your man bring him down here, for I think we had better not say anything to Mr. Boomsby until we have settled where the other half of the money is," said Captain Blastblow.
"Bring him down here," replied the colonel.
The captain soon returned with the pilot, having Cornwood between them. The prisoner seemed to be somewhat bewildered, for no charge had yet been preferred against him.
"Mr. Cornwood, you seem to be acting in a different role than that for which I engaged you at St. Augustine," said Colonel Shepard, when the pilot had put his prisoner into a chair.
"It was my intention to place the steamer in your hands by the time you arrived in Key West," replied Cornwood, with dignity.
"You gave me a letter when you came on board the Islander at Key West," said Captain Blastblow, savagely, to the prisoner.
"I gave you the owner's letter," added Cornwood.
"No, you didn't! you gave me this letter," continued the captain, taking a paper from his pocket. "Is this your letter, Colonel Shepard?"
He gave the letter to his owner. The colonel looked at it and laughed.
"This is not so good an imitation of my handwriting as the other letter," he added. "I never wrote a line of this letter. It favors the theory we have adopted, and I will give it to you."
Captain Blastblow.Dear Sir: This letter will be delivered to you by my excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, who has been my companion during my trip to the interior of Florida, and I commend him to your acquaintance and good offices. You will give him a state-room on board of the Islander, for he will make the trip with you to New Orleans. You will continue to avoid the Sylvania, and in all matters relating to the steamer you will take the advice of Mr. Cornwood, in whose fidelity and good judgment I have entire confidence.Very truly yours,P. G. Shepard.
Captain Blastblow.
Dear Sir: This letter will be delivered to you by my excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, who has been my companion during my trip to the interior of Florida, and I commend him to your acquaintance and good offices. You will give him a state-room on board of the Islander, for he will make the trip with you to New Orleans. You will continue to avoid the Sylvania, and in all matters relating to the steamer you will take the advice of Mr. Cornwood, in whose fidelity and good judgment I have entire confidence.
Very truly yours,
P. G. Shepard.
"My excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood!" exclaimed the colonel. "Did you ever know a man to have so many excellent friends as I have? Why, they are all willing to sacrifice themselves, and take my steam-yacht and run her at my expense, and even without my knowledge."
"You did not write that letter, colonel?" asked Captain Blastblow.
"Of course I did not," replied the owner, warmly. "Why, the writing is quite different from that given to you by my friend, Mr. Boomsby."
"I am afraid I shall not be willing to take any written orders after this, unless the signature is witnessed by some one I know. I am sure I did not think of such a thing as a counterfeit letter. But did you send any letter to me by your excellent friend, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" asked Captain Blastblow.
"I did send a letter to you by him, instructing you to wait at Key West till my arrival there," replied the colonel.
"Will you give me that letter, Mr. Kirby Cornwood?" demanded the captain, addressing the prisoner in a very vigorous manner.
"I gave you the letter I received from Colonel Shepard. I have no other," replied Cornwood, doggedly.
"I don't believe you, when Colonel Shepard says he did not write that letter."
"Do you mean to tell me I lie?" cried Cornwood.
"That's the substance of what I mean," answered the captain, who seemed to hold the prisoner in utter contempt.
"You are a coward, or you would not say that to a man with his arms tied behind him," returned Cornwood, repressing his wrath.
"You invited me to say it, and I said it; and it wouldn't make any difference to me whether your arms were tied or not. But I want the other letter, and I am going to have it. Captain Cayo, we will search him, and then we shall know whether he has it or not," added Captain Blastblow.
The captain and the pilot proceeded at once to execute the threat. Cornwood leaped from his chair, and began to kick at his two persecutors. He was boiling with rage, or with some other passion. But Captain Cayo seized him from behind by the shoulders, and threw him down before he could do any harm. The captain took from his pocket a strong cord he had evidently brought down for the purpose, and while the pilot held him down, tied his ankles together. They then began the search, examining all his pockets first. They found neither the money nor the letter.
"We haven't gone deep enough," said Captain Blastblow, as he thrust his hand into the inside of Cornwood's shirt. The latter seemed to understand what this movement meant, and he renewed his struggles in the most desperate manner.
Captain Cayo put his foot on Cornwood's chest, as he had done when he captured the Floridian, and compelled him to lie quiet. Then he threw up his manacled feet; but I took care of them by sitting down upon his legs. Captain Blastblow then proceeded with his search. He removed a portion of the prisoner's clothing above his trousers, and we could not help seeing the wash-leather belt he wore around his waist. He unbuckled it, and held it up before us.
"Now you may take Mr. Kirby Cornwood on deck," said the captain, in a tone of triumph, as he felt the outside of the pocket-book attached to the belt.
"Do you mean to rob me of my money? Have I fallen among thieves?" demanded Cornwood.
"No; but we have," replied Captain Blastblow.
"This is an outrage, and——"
"Never mind that now; we will hear it another time," interposed the captain.
"I protest against——"
"All right," added the captain, as he seated himself at the cabin-table. "Go on deck, Mr. Kirby Cornwood, and take the air. It will do you good."
The captain handed the money-belt to Colonel Shepard, who opened it, and took from the pocket a large pile of bank-notes.
"That looks more like it," said the captain. "I don't believe that fellow will prosecute us for anything we have done. He belongs in the Florida state prison, if they have such an institution."
"I think we had better count the money," I suggested, as I took the package we had found under the companion-way from my breast-pocket.
"Yes, count, and see if the rascals made a fair 'divvy' of it," added the captain.
Colonel Shepard began to count the bills he had taken from the money-belt, and I opened the package in my possession. As I did so, I found the words, "First National Bank of Florida," as if impressed by a stamp, on the wrapper. The two tin plates, by which I had been able to recognize the package, were made by cutting off the round ends of a pair of tins used for doubling papers and tearing off checks or other papers. I concluded they were a device of the bank messenger, by which he could square his package. When I had shown these things to the captain, I proceeded to count the money.
"Just two thousand dollars," said the colonel, who finished his work long before I did mine.
"Nineteen hundred and ninety," I added, when I had finished the count.
"He may have taken out ten dollars," suggested the colonel.
"I don't believe Cornwood did, for I found other money in his pockets, which I did not touch," added Captain Blastblow.
"Count it over again, Captain Alick," said the colonel.
I did so, laying off the bills in hundreds, as they amounted to this sum. My last lot came out right, and I had twenty piles. It made just two thousand dollars. It was clear now, if it had not been before, that Cornwood's visit to Key West related to Nick Boomsby, and not to the detention of the Islander when she arrived there. The equal division of the money explained the long and rather stormy conversations between the passengers of the Islander. Cornwood was smart, if he was nothing else in the way of honesty and uprightness. He had bullied and persuaded poor Nick Boomsby to give him half the money, and would probably have stolen the other half before the vessel got to New Orleans, if we had not captured her on the way.
I was sorry for Nick Boomsby, for he had been the playmate of my early years; not so sorry that he had been found out as that he could commit a crime. But I could hardly wonder at his guilt when I thought of what his father had done, and what an example he had given his son. I thought the father was almost, if not quite, as much to blame as the son.
"What shall be done with this money?" asked Colonel Shepard, when he had wrapped up both divisions of the money and the money-belt in one package.
"What shall we do with our two prisoners?" I inquired, in answer to the question.
"We can hand them over to the police in New Orleans," replied the colonel.
"Then we can hand the money also over to them," I added. "Probably the news of the robbery of the messenger has been in half the newspapers in the country, and the police of all the large cities will know all about the case."
It was finally agreed that my father should keep the money till we arrived at New Orleans, as he would be in another steamer from the robbers. Colonel Shepard decided to go on board of the Islander at once, and his family were assisted to their new quarters.
CHAPTER XXI.
UP THE MISSISSIPPI.
As soon as we had transferred the family of Colonel Shepard to the Islander, we unlashed the two vessels, and each stemmed the swift current of the Mississippi on its own account. I stopped the screw to allow the other steamer to go clear of the Sylvania, and she went ahead several lengths before we could recover our headway. I saw Captain Blastblow waving his adieus to me, as though he intended to run away from us, notwithstanding his former experience.
"Let her out, Moses," I called to the engineer through the speaking-tube.
The chief engineer understood me perfectly, and I immediately heard the sound of the coal-shovel in the fire-room. I saw from the smoke issuing from the smoke-stack of the Islander, that her captain intended to hurry her. I had beaten her several times to my own satisfaction; and I was certain that he could not sail her any faster than those who had handled her on the Great Lakes. I did not like the idea of having the Sylvania beaten, though I was not much inclined to race for any reason.
It was Washburn's watch, and I gave him the wheel. I had run the steamer over on the left bank of the river, and the mate kept her at a safe distance from the shore. It was soon evident to me that we were gaining on the Islander. We were overhauling her as we had done many times before Captain Blastblow had proved that he was a good seaman, as well as an upright and straightforward man. He had intimated that he could sail the Islander faster than I could the Sylvania; and I only desired to show him that he was mistaken.
While the race was in progress, I went down into the cabin to arrange about changing the passengers into other quarters. Four of the late occupants of the cabin, besides Chloe, had gone on board of Colonel Shepard's yacht, and four were left in the Sylvania. There was a state-room for each of them, and I proposed that they should arrange the matter among themselves. But my father insisted that I should do it myself. I put my father and Mr. Tiffany into the two large apartments, and Miss Margie and Owen into the two small ones. Cobbington and the new waiter each had a berth, and there were still two spare ones. Everybody was entirely satisfied, though I could see that Owen was very sorry that Miss Edith had moved into the Islander.
When I went on deck the Sylvania was abreast of the Islander. Both steamers were tugging hard against the current, and each was carrying all the steam it was safe to put on. Slowly we walked by the Islander, and I could not help going aft to see how Captain Blastblow liked the looks of the stern of the Sylvania. When he saw me, he laughed pleasantly, and I was convinced there was no bad feeling in his heart. I had no feeling of personal triumph, for I was satisfied he would have beaten me if we had exchanged vessels. The superiority was in the steamer, and not in the management.
The river presented the same unvarying features, and in the whole of Plaquemine Parish, which contains the river almost up to New Orleans and the Delta, there is no land more than ten feet above the level of the gulf. The water was loaded with a sort of yellow mud, and it was easy enough to see how the levees had been formed and the Delta projected far out into the gulf.
When the water, for any reason, lost its five-mile current, the soil it contained was deposited on the bottom. As the mighty stream brings its load of mud down to the gulf, it is left there, and the same force works it to each side. In this way, though the effect of a century of accumulations are hardly perceptible, the Delta has been extended fifteen or twenty miles out into the gulf.
In this mud, which forms the bars at the mouth of the river, vessels drawing from sixteen to twenty feet ground; but their keels are driven through it by strong tugs, or even by the winds acting on the sails. The State of Louisiana has to look out for its levees almost as carefully as Holland does for its dikes. Millions have been spent on them, and every year requires additional expenditures to keep them in repair. Even New Orleans is four feet below high-water mark, as well as much of the surrounding country. The levees, created by the deposit of sediment from the river, and by human labor, are broken through when the freshets send the water down faster than the flow of the river will carry it off.
As I have said before, it was now a season of unusually high water. The country beyond the levees was covered. Sugar, cotton, and rice plantations were inundated. Occasionally we could see a group of houses on a knoll, like an island, but a few inches above the level of the water. In other places we saw dwellings floating, and others still in their places, but partly submerged. It all looked to me like a region in which I should not care to live.
"We are leaving the Islander a good way behind us," said Washburn, when I returned to the pilot-house, after my survey of the surrounding country.
"She is only about half a mile astern of us," I replied. "I suppose we shall gain about half a mile an hour on her in this current, when we drive the Sylvania."
"It is five o'clock in the afternoon," added the mate, glancing at the clock. "I estimate that we are all of fifty miles from New Orleans. Do you intend to run after dark, Alick?"
"Why not?" I asked, somewhat surprised at the question.
"I don't think it is quite prudent to do so. The river is very high, and I would rather see where we are going than go on in the dark," answered Washburn.
"The river is over a mile wide, and too deep for snags and sawyers."
"It is cloudy now, and it will be very dark. We don't run by courses here, and we may get into trouble in some way, though I confess I can't see how."
"We shall get to New Orleans by midnight," I added.
"What good will it do to get there by midnight? As we approach the city there will be something to be seen, but our passengers can't see it in the night. If I understand the matter, we are in no hurry, and it makes no difference whether we get in to-night or to-morrow noon."
"I think you are right, Washburn; at any rate it is best to be on the safe side. We will keep on as far as we can while we have the light, and then we will look out for a good place to tie up for the night," I answered.
I had hardly come to a decision before we saw a large body floating down the river. We could not make out what it was at first. A bend of the river swept it over to the side on which we were sailing, and Washburn headed out for the middle to avoid it. We soon ascertained that it was an old flatboat, such as come down the great river with a cargo of coal, lumber, grain, or other merchandise, and is then broken up, because it will not pay its cost to take it back to the point from which it started.
The flatboat came down the stream broadside to, though we saw it make two or three whirls as it advanced. It had evidently broken loose from its moorings at or near the city, and was on its way to the gulf on its own account. After passing the bend, the current began to carry it out into the middle of the river, and we were obliged to sheer off again to avoid a collision with it. I breathed easier when I saw it astern of the Sylvania.
"I should not like to make that thing out, close aboard of us in the dark," said Washburn.
"Would you like to have it drift against you while moored to the shore?" I asked.
"I should not; but that would be better than hitting it with full steam on. But we must haul up in the right place. We needn't choose a place where the current sets against the shore, as it does at a bend. I should haul her up on the other side of the river, and then anything floating on its own hook will be carried away from us," replied Washburn.
"The logic is correct, and we will seek such a place as you describe."
The sight of the flatboat assured me that it was not safe to run in the night, at least during high water, when the current was bearing off houses, vessels, and other cumbrous things. Running over a floating log might disable our propeller, and we should be helpless then. There were but few great bends in this part of the river, much as the mighty stream twists about above New Orleans. I kept a lookout for a suitable place to moor the steamer to the shore.
The supper-bell had just rung when I saw such a place as I had been looking for. On the right bank was a point of land where a considerable bend sent the whole force of the powerful current over to the other side of the river. I rang the bell to reduce the speed, as I pointed out the spot to the mate. He ran the nose of the boat up to the bank, and Buck jumped ashore with a line, with which a hawser was drawn to the land. It was made fast to a pine-tree, and no other line seemed to be needed.
I could see the Islander about two miles down the river. We all went down to supper except a hand to notify us of danger from any source. I was not at my meal more than fifteen minutes, for I had dined late. When I came on deck, the Islander was almost abreast of the Sylvania. Colonel Shepard was in the pilot-house with the captain, and they seemed to be in earnest conversation.
Probably Captain Blastblow had not thought of hauling up for the night any more than I had when Washburn spoke to me about the matter. I had no doubt they were discussing the same subject which the mate and I had disposed of.
"What are you doing here, Captain Alick?" shouted Captain Blastblow, as he rang his speed-bell.
"Waiting for the Islander to come up with us," I replied, laughing, for I could not be less good-natured than the captain of the Islander.
"Did you have to tie up to the bank to wait?" asked Captain Blastblow; and by this time the steamer was working just steam enough to balance her in the current, so that she was nearly stationary.
"We are going to lie here to-night," I replied.
"What for?"
"Did you meet a flatboat floating down the river about an hour ago?" I asked, thinking that would furnish sufficient explanation of my action.
"I did; I ran into it, and smashed in one of its sides so that it filled with water," answered Captain Blastblow.
"Then the next man that meets it in the dark cannot see it as well as you did," I continued. "I don't think it is safe to run in the night when the river is full of floating logs, flatboats, and other things."
The captain and the owner of the Islander discussed the subject, though I could not hear what they said. In a few minutes the captain rang the gong, and the steamer went ahead at full speed. I hoped no accident would happen to the Islander, and the chances were in favor of her reaching New Orleans in safety. But there was not much fun in paddling through the muddy river in the dark, let alone the prudence of doing so. My father and Owen came into the pilot-house after supper, and both of them approved what I had done.
The Sylvania lay alongside the bank of the stream, held by the hawser, with her stern a little way out from the shore. At seven o'clock it was very dark, and I directed the watch I had set for the first part of the night to rig lanterns at the fore-stay and the topping lift of the main-boom. I had a quantity of Bengola lights put in the pilot-house, that we might light up the scene around us, if it should be desirable to do so.
I saw the Islander with a house hanging to her bow."I saw the Islander with a house hanging to her bow."Page 252.
About nine o'clock I heard the noise of escaping steam, not more than half a mile distant. Then shouts came from the same direction. I lighted one of the fireworks, and in the glare I saw the Islander with a house hanging to her bow.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE ISLANDER IN A BAD FIX.
The silver light from the Bengola enabled me to see clearly the strange sight that presented itself to our gaze. Owen was smoking his cigar, and Washburn and my father were talking about India. The whistle and the shout from the steamer were the first intimations we had that anything was wrong. I could see some lights in the gloom that hung over the river, but nothing to enable me to ascertain the situation, until the Bengola illuminated the scene.
It was a strange sight. I could not tell whether the building was a house or a stable, though it appeared to have too many windows for the latter. The Islander, it appeared, had run her bow into the structure up to the pilot-house. The steamer was still working her screw. But the odd complication floated slowly down the stream towards the bank of the river opposite the position of the Sylvania.
"Call all hands!" I said, with energy. "Tell the engineer to stir up the fires."
Washburn hastened to execute the orders, and the rest of us watched with increasing wonder the floating mass, which was every moment increasing its distance from us.
"I say, Captain Alick, can you tell me what all that means?" asked Owen Garningham. "Was the Islander going into that house to spend the night?"
"I really can't say whether she was or not; but it is not likely that the steamer went on shore for a night's lodging in the building," I replied.
"I dare say the Islander could not handle herself very well on the land, if she found any land to get on," added Owen.
"It is more likely that the house, or whatever it is, was afloat when the Islander knocked for admission," I continued.
"If the steamer knocked, the house appears to have opened to her."
"How is your steam, Moses?" I called through the tube to the engineer.
"Rather low for working in this current," came back to me through the tube.
At that moment the Islander whistled again. I pulled our whistle line, and found we had steam enough to give a smart reply; but I was not willing to trust the Sylvania to the rapid river without a full head of steam. I lighted another Bengola. In its glare I saw that the other steamer was backing her screw, as probably she had been doing from the beginning. I judged that the building was about fifty feet long, and, as it was partly submerged, it presented a large broadside to the rapid current.
"I don't see how she got into that scrape, unless she was looking for a night's lodging," said Washburn. "That building is big enough to be seen in the dark."
"Of course Captain Blastblow did not intend to run into it," I added. "Probably he had not time to get out of the way when he first saw it."
"But it seems to me I should not go far with such a load before I shook it off."
"But don't you see that he can't pull out of the house?" demanded Owen. "He is stuck fast in her side."
"They have axes on board the Islander; and I don't think it would take our crew long to cut her out of that hole," added Washburn. "Why does she keep whistling? Her captain can imagine that we have not steam enough to work the Sylvania in such a current."
"I say, Washy, have you ever been down the Danube?" asked Owen.
"I never have been. I was never in Europe," replied the mate.
"I should say this current is quite as swift as that of the Danube at Vienna; and it makes seven miles an hour there."
"The ordinary current of the Mississippi is about five miles an hour, and in such a freshet it must be as much as seven."
"What is a freshet, Mr. Mate?"
"An inundation; an overflow of the water; a flood; a——"
"Cut it short! I understand it perfectly. I never heard it called a freshet before. Has it anything to do with the fact that this is fresh water, Washy?"
"I don't think it has, though I never heard of such a thing as a freshet in salt water, which could not very well be, since a freshet is caused by heavy rains and the melting of the snow," replied Washburn. "You never heard of a freshet before! Where have you been all your life?"
"That's an American word, Mr. Washburn," interposed my father. "I never heard it except in this country."
At this moment Mr. Tiffany and his daughter joined us in the pilot-house, after asking if they might come in. I gave them chairs and explained to them the rather ludicrous situation of the Islander. All hands were on the forecastle except the chief engineer and Landy Perkins. I ordered a Bengola to be burned on the top-gallant forecastle to enable them to see the Islander and its odd burden.
"Mr. Brickland says he has steam enough," said Landy Perkins, reporting to me at the pilothouse.
"All right," I replied. "Buck, cast off the hawser, when I bring her up to it."
The end of the fast had been passed around a pine-tree, and made fast at the bitts, so that we could unmoor without going on shore. I rang to go ahead; and when the hawser was hauled in, I backed the steamer away from the bank. I directed the deck hands to keep the fireworks ablaze that I might see where to steer. I soon discovered the Islander and the building, and ran for them as fast as possible. As we had the current with us, we made at least fifteen miles an hour.
As the Sylvania came nearer to her consort, I could better make out the condition of things on board of her. The building appeared to be some kind of a workshop. The Islander had drove her bow through its side. I concluded that some of the boarding and studding had not been broken off. The bow had carried them within the structure, and the lower ends had dropped down on the deck, and thus prevented the vessel from withdrawing her forward part.
As we came nearer to her, I had our fenders hung over the port side. We had two gilded axes slung on the front of the pilot-house, which had probably never been taken from their resting-places. I told Ben Bowman to take one of these, and Dyer Perkins the other, for both of them had had some experience in the woods. I had made up my mind just where the trouble was. I directed Washburn to go on board of the Islander when we got alongside of her, and superintend the cutting away of the boards and joists, with two more men from the other steamer.
Buck and Hop were to stand by the hawsers by which we were to make fast to the Islander. As soon as we came up abreast of the consort, I saw Colonel Shepard and his family on the quarter-deck. They were very much alarmed at the situation, for Mrs. Shepard was wringing her hands in terror, and the colonel was trying to comfort her. As soon as our bow came abreast of the party, Owen made a long leap to the deck of the Islander. It was a careless trick, and he deserved to fall overboard for risking his life when there was not the least need of it. As soon as we were fairly alongside our consort, the deck hands leaped on board of her with the fasts, and we were soon securely lashed together.
"Stop your screw, Captain Blastblow!" I shouted, though I realized a moment later that I had no business to give orders to him, or to undertake to manage the business of the occasion.
Washburn leaped on board with his two axe-men, and I heard him politely ask the captain to send two of his men with axes to assist him. Captain Blastblow not only stopped the steamer, but he instantly ordered his mate and another man to do what the mate of the Sylvania desired.
"I think we had better go ahead, Captain Blastblow," I continued, trying to be less imperative than before.
"If you see the way out of this scrape, Captain Alick, I am willing to do anything you say," replied the captain of the Islander.
"I think I do see the way out of it; and the best plan is to go ahead, full steam," I answered.
I had a theory, though I had had as yet no opportunity to test its correctness. I called Buck to the wheel, and told him to steer for the middle of the river. I was afraid if the building struck the bank it might be tumbled over on the steamers. I went on board of the Islander. I asked the captain to steer for the middle of the river, and then went forward into the building. My theory in regard to the boarding and studding was correct. Washburn was directing the four men, and assisting them himself, to pull out the boards and joists. They had little occasion to use the axes after the two steamers began to go ahead. Backing the Islander had tightened up every piece of lumber that had been forced in by the bow. The harder the boat pulled back, the more firmly the joists were held in their places. It was no wonder to me that the captain had not been able to shake off this unwieldy burden.
My first thought, in having the steamers go ahead, was to prevent the Islander from drawing out of the building while my men were in it, for they might have been crushed by the swaying of the structure. When we went ahead, we not only loosened the timbers and boards, so that they could be removed from their positions, but we prevented the Islander from coming out of her lodging-place until the hands were in a safe part of the boat.
"There, sir, I think she is all clear now," said Washburn.
I could find nothing to impede the withdrawal of our consort's bow, and I sent my hands back to the Sylvania, and directed the others to go abaft the pilot-house of the Islander. I requested Captain Blastblow to keep his craft going till I rang my gong. I returned to the pilot-house of the Sylvania, and rang to stop her. The gong of the Islander followed suit instantly. I waited a minute to notice the effect. I expected the consort would draw out of her "chancery" at once; but she did not. I told the mate to see that our hawsers were good for a hard pull, and he soon reported them fast and strong.
"Now, back her, if you please, Captain Blastblow," I called to the Islander.
At the same time I rang two bells. Both steamers began to back at the same time. The Islander immediately went clear of the building, which continued on its way down the river. No crash, or severe wrench, as I had anticipated, attended the separation of the steamer and its burden.
"You are all right now, Captain Blastblow!" I shouted, rejoiced that he had got rid of his incubus.
"Thank you, Captain Alick, for your assistance; and I think we will lie up with you," answered the captain of the Islander.
We cast off the fasts, and the consort followed us up to the place where we had moored before, and made fast to a tree just below us. Presently the captain came up to pay us a visit. I inquired about his prisoners first, and learned that they were under the care of Captain Cayo in the fore-cabin.
"Our people seem to think you were looking for a night's lodging in that floating building, Captain Blastblow," I said.
"Well, not exactly," added the captain. "We have been very sorry, for the last hour and a half, while we were dragged down the river by that building, that we did not follow your example, and hang up for the night."
"Where did you pick up that house, captain?" asked Owen.
"I kept a sharp lookout on the top-gallant forecastle; but none of us saw the building until it was too late to get out of the way," replied Captain Blastblow. "Following the example of Captain Alick, I kept as close to the shore on the port side as possible. About an hour after we left you, I saw something black loom up before me, and the next instant we struck her at full speed. The house had floated out of a bayou, I found, which was the reason we did not see it sooner. It was a building where they worked on rice. It was stretched across a creek, so that the rice could be dropped into a boat under it. We have a white man and two negroes on board that we saved from it."
After a long talk, in which Captain Blastblow did me the honor to say that I was a "smart boy," he returned to his craft, and the rest of us turned in.
CHAPTER XXIII.
AN EMBARRASSING SITUATION.
I was on my feet at daylight; but I found that Moses Brickland and Dyer Perkins were up before me. They had opened up the fires, drawn the clinkers from the furnaces, and were now oiling the engine. They had nearly steam enough to enable us to start up the river. Everything looked very quiet on board of the Islander, and there was no smoke issuing from her smoke-stack.
I jumped ashore, and the first thing I noticed was that the water was more than a foot higher than it was the night before. It seemed to me that there must be an inundation above us. I found no one stirring on board of the consort, and I went on deck. I knocked at the door of the chief engineer. I told him I intended to get under way in the course of fifteen minutes, and I did not care to leave the Islander behind. He got up at once, and called his starboard fireman.
Without standing on any ceremony, I walked into the captain's state-room, and told him I should be off in fifteen minutes. I found he had given no orders about starting, but I assured him his engineer and fireman were attending to their duty. I bantered him a little, saying I did not leave him behind for fear he would get into trouble. He was good-natured about it, and replied that he should sail in the company of the Sylvania if possible. He admitted that we could outsail him, for he had done his best to keep up with the Sylvania.
"How are your prisoners getting along?" I asked, for I had thought more than once that they might escape while we were hauled up.
"They were all right last night when I turned in. I looked this place over, and there is not more than half an acre on this bank that is not under water," replied the captain. "They could not get away without a boat."
We went out on the deck, and found the two quarter-boats were hanging at the davits. Captain Cayo had charge of the prisoners, and the fore-cabin was locked every night before they went to their berths. But the door must have been opened to let the firemen out. I told the captain that he had better make sure they were safe before we left our moorings, as it would be easier to find them now than it would be after we got half way to New Orleans. He went below, and when he came up he was assured they were on board.
I had avoided Nick Boomsby since the capture of the Islander, for I knew he would beg me to get him out of his present trouble. I could not see my way to do anything of the kind, and therefore I kept out of his way. I remained on board of the steamer until the engineer reported that he had steam enough to go ahead, when I returned to the Sylvania. The fasts were cast off, and by five o'clock we were again stemming the tide of the mighty river. The current was even stronger than it had been the day before. I told the engineer to let the steamer go at her ordinary speed, and the Islander kept very near us.
The river was covered with lumber, shanties swept from their resting-places, and other obstructions; but in the daytime we could easily avoid them. It was half-past seven before any of our passengers came on deck. We were passing a little village that seemed to be struggling for existence, for the high water was crowding hard upon its houses and other buildings. By eleven o'clock we saw several villages, and some very handsome and romantic estates, though they were mostly covered with water.
At noon the city was in plain sight, and soon we had New Orleans on one side and Algiers on the other. The water was almost up to the top of the levees. The shores were crowded with steamboats and sailing-vessels. The former were entirely different from any I had ever seen before, though for some time after I saw them every day. I had a map of New Orleans in a large atlas I kept in my room; and I had decided to make a landing as near as I could to the foot of Canal Street. I had read that this street had a green, with trees extending through it.
I had no difficulty in identifying it when I came to it. At the foot of it was the customhouse, said to be one of the largest public buildings in the United States; and I had no difficulty in believing the statement. In front of it was the broad levee where steamers landed, and such a forest of them I never saw before. They were packed in like sardines, and I could find no opening by which I could get to the shore.
I found that the decks of the steamers were common ground, and most of them could only be reached by passing over others. But near the levee I found a wharf, the lower end of which was under water, at which I concluded we could lie by paying wharfage. I ran the Sylvania in as far as I could and made fast. The Islander came up alongside of her, and was secured to the bow and stern. My father and the Tiffanys concluded to take up their quarters at the St. Charles Hotel, so that they could see more of the city. I called a carriage for them; and then the Shepards decided to follow their example, as they were tired of being on the water for over a week.
As soon as they were gone we thought it was time to attend to the disposition of the prisoners. My father had taken the money with him, but the hotel was not more than a quarter of a mile from the wharf. I sent Buck Lingley to assist Captain Cayo, and he was assigned to the care of Nick Boomsby.
"Here we are," said Captain Blastblow, after everything had been put in order on both vessels. "Do you expect to get away from here this summer?"
"This summer! I expect to get away from here in two or three days," I replied, rather startled by the remark of the captain.
"I think not," he added, shaking his head ominously.
"Why not?"
"Are you a lawyer, Captain Alick?" demanded Captain Blastblow, with a very comical expression on his face.
"I am no lawyer, not even a sea-lawyer," I answered, wondering what he was driving at.
"Neither am I; but it has occurred to me that we might be kept here longer than we wanted to stay."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I was thinking just now that if we had let Cornwood and Boomsby escape from the steamer last night it would have saved us a world of trouble," added Captain Blastblow, with a cunning leer and a wink.
"I don't understand you," I replied, satisfied by this time that he had found a mare's nest, or there was some kind of trouble ahead.
"We have two men in the fore-cabin who are charged with robbery."
"One of them is; the other is an accomplice after the fact," I replied.
"That sounds as though you had been a lawyer all your life, or at least since you put on jacket and trousers. An accomplice after the fact! I suppose that he took part in the robbery after it was all done."
"It means that Cornwood took the money, knowing it was stolen, and aided and abetted Boomsby in escaping. In my opinion, he came down to Key West solely to get part of the money. But no matter for that; what is to keep us here all summer?" I asked.
"I presume you mean to hand the robbers over to the police of New Orleans?" queried Captain Blastblow.
"That is the only thing we can do, unless we carry them back to Florida; and I don't care about going back there so soon."
"Just so. I don't know anything about law; but once I brought in a fellow in my vessel who had committed a crime in another State. One of the passengers who knew all about the crime complained of the rascal, and he was hauled up before a court. It so happened that I knew something about the matter, and I was summoned as a witness, and the man was sent to jail. I could identify the man, but no one else could. They had to send south for a requisition from the Governor of Georgia. For one reason and another it took two weeks to get it, and I had to stay home from one trip to Savannah to appear as a witness."
"And you think we may be kept here as witnesses," I inquired, with no little anxiety.
"We are dead sure to be kept here till the Governor of Florida can send an officer with a requisition for the prisoner. It will take at least one week for that, and it may take two or three. Somebody must complain of Boomsby and Cornwood in Jacksonville, and then the governor must be sure that it is all right. After all this the Governor of Louisiana must be sure that he is not sending a man off who is not likely to be guilty."
The situation looked rather trying to me, and I decided to go on shore and have a talk with my father about it. As soon as I reached the customhouse I bought a Picayune, and the first thing I saw in the paper was "Further Details of the Great Storm." I found that the whole country above was inundated, and that it was expected the river would rise still higher. Many railroads could not send out trains, bridges had been carried away, and many lives had been lost. It was an appalling state of things. Vast numbers of men were employed in strengthening the levees above New Orleans. The Missouri River had risen higher than ever before, and whole villages had been carried away in the North-western States.
I found my father in the reading-room of the St. Charles devouring the contents of a newspaper. He began to give me the startling intelligence, but I told him I had just read it. I then stated the situation in relation to our two prisoners. He was alarmed at the prospect of a long delay, for the heat was intense in the city. Besides, we were not sure the city itself would not be inundated by the rising waters.
My father was as much perplexed as I was. Our business was "Yachting on the Mississippi," and the idea of being detained two or even three weeks for the officials of two States to investigate a case that was plain enough to us was hardly to be endured on the one hand, while we had no desire to have a crime go unpunished on the other. We were certainly in a dilemma. We decided to have a conference with the rest of the party.
We found them in the ladies' parlor. Mrs. Shepard was fanning herself vigorously, and I judged that she was in a very unhappy state of mind. I had seen very little of my passengers during the voyage from Jacksonville, for the heavy sea which constantly deluged the deck had kept them in the cabin. I spoke to the colonel's wife, and hoped she was very well.
"I am not well at all, Captain Alick," she replied. "My nerves are shaken all to pieces by the voyage from Jacksonville, and if my husband owns the Islander for the next twenty years I shall never go to sea in her again."
"Indeed, is it so bad as that? But you have not been in the Islander in any very heavy weather," I added.
"I was in the Sylvania when I never expected to see land again; and I shall never forget that terrible time after the shipwreck, for I never suffered so much in one night, though I have crossed the Atlantic four times. I am told that you managed the Sylvania very well, and I have no doubt of it; but it was a terrible storm for such a small vessel. Last night I wished I was in the Sylvania, for I was very much alarmed when we were carried down the river by that terrible building."
"My wife don't feel safe in the city," added Colonel Shepard. "She is afraid we may be inundated here. She prefers to be on board of the steamer, and wants to start up the river immediately."
"I do feel safer on the river than I do on shore," said Mrs. Shepard. "I heard there was a case of yellow fever in the city."
"Impossible, so early in the season," replied her husband.
"At any rate, I don't want to stay here another day."
The lady was nervous, but she could not help it; and her health seemed to be falling back under the excitement of the recent trip.
Our conference resulted in a decision to sail up the river next morning, taking our prisoners with us. I went back to the wharf, and informed Captain Blastblow of the wishes of the party.
Cornwood and Nick seemed to be very well satisfied with their condition on board. But I wanted to see something of the city if the passengers did not, and Washburn and I used up the afternoon in going to the principal points of interest. It would take a whole volume to give my impressions of New Orleans; but that is no part of my present purpose. At nine o'clock the next morning our passengers came on board, and we started up the river.