Chapter XXIII: A Night in New Orleans

"I believe," Clay declared, after a long pause, during which the voices of negroes along the levee came softly through the night, "that you know something about the three persons we are just now interested in."

"Name the three," laughed the sheriff. "Who are they?"

"First, the man we have always called Red, the Robber."

"You have referred to him before, my boy."

"But you gave me no satisfaction," urged Clay, eagerly. "Do you know him?"

"I have heard of a man who sometimes answers to the name of Red. What next?"

"The boy, Chester Vinton, accused of having had a hand in the Rock Island robbery."

"Why do you think I know anything of him? If I knew where he was I'd be sure and keep him long enough to find out what he knows about that robbery!"

"And the third person is the cashier of the bank where I left the packet. What did he come on board the _Rambler_ for? Who were the men with him?"

"The cashier said he was curious to see the famous boat, didn't he?"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed Clay. "That wasn't the reason he came on board! Honest, now, didn't he expect to find some of the plunder taken from the warehouse on the boat?"

"I don't know what he expected to find, I'm sure. I have never talked with him."

"Now," Clay went on, "you have referred to the leather bag, the one thrown on the deck of the _Rambler_. Who told you about the bag if the cashier didn't? I begin to think the cashier took the bag and threw it back, or caused it to be thrown back, when he discovered that it contained nothing of value."

"What did it contain when you first saw it?" asked the sheriff, a twinkle in his eyes. "Let us talk about that, for a time!"

"I'm going to show you," Clay replied, half angrily, "that I can be just as secretive as you can! I don't know anything about the leather bag!"

"Well," the officer went on, with a puzzling expression on his face, "if you come across this boy Chet will you let me know about it?"

"No, I won't!" replied Clay.

"That's right! Speak right up, promptly! Now I know just what to expect!"

"You might clear up the whole matter," Clay complained, "and yet you won't open your mouth! I'm not going to assist you--not if I get a chance, which is doubtful."

"Well," said the sheriff, moving toward the boats, "I must be getting along! I may see you later. If you come back this way don't forget that you are all to be my guests for a few days. I really want to get better acquainted with you boys."

"We'll think it over," laughed Clay. "We're thankful for the invitation, anyway."

"And when you get down below New Orleans," the officer suggested, "look out for the real thing in pirates! That boat of yours would make a fine craft for a freebooter. And human life is not regarded as very valuable down there."

"We'll be careful, thank you!" Clay answered, and the sheriff and his men went off in their boats, leaving the boys looking wonderingly at their retreating forms.

"Now," Alex. grumbled, "what did they come here for, anyway? They simply let us know that they were wise to our troubles and went away--without finding out anything, or giving us any information except that they were acquainted with our movements."

"They did ask for the boy Chet," suggested Case.

"Don't you suppose they know what it was I put in the deposit box at the bank?" asked Clay. "Of course they know! Now, why didn't the sheriff demand the key and claim the diamonds as stolen property?"

"It is peaches to prunes that he has opened the box long before this, or that some one has!" Alex. put in. "He's the original little pry-in!"

"I'm all out of guesses," Jule declared, "and so I'm going to bed."

The boys saw nothing of the sheriff the next morning. They were on their way at an early hour, and, going at a swift clip, were within sight of New Orleans by nightfall.

"Shall we spend the night in the city?" asked Case, then.

"And where would we leave the _Rambler_?" asked Jule. "If we left it on the river we wouldn't have any boat in the morning."

Without deciding the point the boys tied up some distance above the city and prepared supper. The moon arose in a clear sky about eight o'clock and the boys did not turn on the electric lights after eating. They sat in the moonlight on the deck and watched Captain Joe, Teddy and Mose tumbling about.

"If it wasn't so much trouble to dress," Case said, after a time, "I'd like to go to a theatre to-night, and have a swell supper afterwards."

"You don't want much!" laughed Clay.

"Why not go, then?" asked Alex. "I'm not too lazy to put on a decent suit."

"Do you mean it?" demanded Case, rising from his chair.

"If the others will stay and guard the boat I mean it," was the reply.

"Go if you want to," Clay answered the inquiring look, "for Jule and Mose can help me keep off the pirates! Only don't remain away all night."

"Ah done like to see dis town!" Mose suggested.

"You'll have to wait until some other time, Mose," Clay replied. "You must stay on board and help repel boarders now!"

The little negro grinned as if perfectly satisfied with the arrangement, and went on with his boxing match with Teddy. Case and Alex. dressed as rapidly as possible and were taken ashore, in the four-oared boat captured above Memphis, at the foot of a street not far from a trolley line running to the business center of the city. When Clay returned with the rowboat, Mose was on one of the willow mattresses which had been brought down the river.

In a few minutes Clay called to him to come on board, but there was no reply. Mose was nowhere in sight. He had evidently started out to see the city on his own hook!

"I reckon that is the last we'll ever see of him," Jule commented, as they gave up the search for the boy. "He'll get to shooting craps in the city and live there forever. Can't do anything with a kid like that."

"It is hard work to knock any sense into the head of a boy brought up on the St. Louis levee," Clay admitted, "but I hope he'll return."

"Perhaps he followed Case and Alex., and will return with them," Jule suggested.

"That would be like him," Clay admitted.

The boys were not sleepy and the moonlight was fine, so they sat on the deck until midnight, waiting for the others to return. They had not returned at one o'clock, and the watchers were becoming anxious when a call from the shore came to their ears. In a moment the call was repeated, shriller than before, and then there followed a splash in the river and a shot.

The boys saw a figure swimming toward the _Rambler_ and got out their guns.

"Doesn't look very formidable!" Clay observed, as the figure came nearer. "It looks like Mose! Now, what the mischief is the little coon up to, I'd like to know?"

"It is Mose, all right," Jule assented, "and there's some one on shore shooting at him. He may have been up to some of his pranks on shore."

Directly the shooting on the shore ceased, and then Mose came on faster, not being obliged to swim under water half the time. He crawled, chilly and dripping, on deck and rolled his eyes at Clay.

"Dey done got um!" he exclaimed.

"What about it?" demanded Jule. "Who's got them?"

After much questioning it was learned that Mose had left the _Rambler_ in time to overtake Case and Alex., that he had followed them into the city, and had seen them talking with Chet Vinton, the mysterious boy who seemed to turn up in the oddest places and to disappear in the strangest manner.

The boys had talked with Chet for a long time, the little negro said, and had not gone to the theatre at all. Instead, they had gone into a disreputable part of the city with the boy, and had there met two men believed by the negro to be thieves.

At last, at a late hour, the boy declared, still with much hesitation, Case and Alex. had attempted to leave the little cottage where they were sitting and had been forcibly detained. Chet, Mose said, had been the first one to oppose their departure. Then he, Mose, had dashed away to warn those on the boat and had been followed by some of the men he had been watching.

He described in glowing terms and very bad English how he had jumped fences and chased through moonlit backyards, and how he had been shot at at every step of the way!

"I reckon you were shot at because some one mistook you for a thief."

Mose looked reproachfully at Jule, and rolled his eyes wider than ever.

"What are we going to do now?" questioned Clay. "I don't know how much of this story to believe."

"One of us might leave the boat and go back with Mose," the other suggested.

At mention of his going back to the place from which he had fled, Mose rushed into the cabin, lowered his bunk, and covered up, head and ears, in the bedclothes! Captain Joe tried to worry him out, but without success.

"I believe the dog can find them," Clay remarked, presently.

"I'm willing to go and try what he can do," Jule answered.

"If we could get that foolish negro to come along!" Clay commented.

Jule went back to the bunk and shook Mose by the shoulder.

"Come on," he cried. "We're going to take Captain Joe out with us and find the boys. You'll have to go along and show the way!"

"Fo' de Law'd's sake!" wailed the boy. "Let dis coon die in hes bed!"

"Come on!" insisted Jule. "You've got to come."

After many arguments and many promises of reward in the shape of yellow shoes and red shirts, the boy consented to go ashore again. Clay warned Jule to be watchful and cautious and saw him go away with Mose and Captain Joe with a feeling that a great deal depended on his good judgment.

Jule and Mose were obliged to wait some time for a late car, and the walk to the quarter of the city toward which their steps were turned was a long one, so it was nearly three o'clock in the morning when they came to a dilapidated old shanty near the river front. Mose declared this was the place, and Captain Joe seemed to think so also, for he said quite positively, in his best dog-English, that there were people he knew in that old ruin, which was dark in every window and door.

Now and then, as the boys and the dog stood in front of the house, loiterers of the night paused in their aimless wanderings and regarded them speculatively, possibly mistaking them for disreputables like themselves. For a long time there was no sign of life in the house, and then a soft footstep was heard at the front door and the boys heard a knob stealthily turned.

Listen as they might, they heard nothing more for a long time, and then a figure dropped softly out of an open window and moved off toward the river, evidently failing to see the watchers crouched near at hand.

"That's Chet!" Jule muttered, starting away, but Mose shook his head vigorously.