Chapter I: A Sweet Lady (13)

We received the Singletons in a body, every one being glad to see Miss Betty in such fine color and without trace of tears or weariness of any kind to cloud her fair face. Contrary to her habit, she was now demure--nay, blushing and shy; at which Constance and I looked at each other in surprise. This being the first time I had seen Mr. Singleton since the happenings on the steamboat, I was greatly interested to know what kind of a person he was, and in this was pleasantly surprised. For he proved to be a man of great good sense and sprightliness of manner, in which love of his family was plainly apparent. This not strangely, for men of correct lives and most lovable traits, I have since come to know, are often led astray as he had been. Usually, too, in such cases it needs some shock such as he had received to make them conscious of the outcome that sooner or later overtakes all who give themselves up unreservedly to play.

Since the great trial, Uncle Job had done nothing but stand about the common room of the Dragon and receive the congratulations of the community, now as outspoken in its good wishes as it was for the moment evasive and cold. On the present occasion he bore himself like the fine gentleman he was, and when he offered Mrs. Singleton his arm to take her out to dinner I thought there was not a handsomer man in the world, nor one who made so little of it, either. In this belief I was sure others of the company shared, and more especially Miss Betty, who could hardly keep her eyes off him, so great was her admiration. Seated about the table the faces of all present, and more particularly Uncle Job's and Miss Betty's, evinced the utmost contentment and happiness, and such altogether as befitted an occasion so rare in their lives. Seeing which, every one smiled their approval and satisfaction.

When the more serious business of the dinner was over, Mr. Seymour toasted the bride to be, and with so much delicacy of manner and expertness of speech that we could not take our eyes off him for the surprise of it. What he said was attended with many happy blushes on the part of Miss Betty, and afterward by much hilarity on the part of the company, in which Uncle Job joined, and with such spirit, too, as I had never seen in him before. Surely, I thought, you are in great luck, Miss Betty, to get so fine a man for a husband. Then Uncle Job was toasted by Mr. Seymour, and this with such elaboration of compliment and prolixity of happy discourse that we thought he would never let go the opportunity to felicitate the company and Uncle Job on the event we were celebrating. This greatly increased the good feeling of all present, and for a time there was such a bedlam of voices and clinking of glasses that I tiptoed to the door lest some inkling of it should come to the ears of the sleeping village. When quiet had been secured, though this was not possible for a long time, Mr. Seymour turned to where I sat, with much solemnity of manner, as if amid all our joy some discordant note had been struck, saying:

"Having drunk to the health and happiness of our guests of honor, I desire in the most kindly way to condole with our young friend and Knight of the Road, Mr. Gilbert Holmes."

At this every one looked up in surprise, not knowing what he meant, and for a time all conversation ceased, but Mrs. Singleton, presently regaining her voice, cried out:

"Pray, why should you condole with my young sweetheart, Mr. Seymour? What has he done, or what misfortune hangs over him? I am sure he looks as happy as any one here."

"That is true, Mrs. Singleton; but the mercenary element in our nature never shows itself till we have had some experience of life. Gilbert is no exception to the rule, and so his dreams are still undisturbed. Give him time, Mrs. Singleton, give him time, and then you will see how his face will furrow with anxiety and the unhappiness that accompanies a discontented mind," Mr. Seymour answered, in his grave, stately way.

"We don't understand at all the drift of what you are saying, Mr. Seymour," Mrs. Singleton went on. "Surely we should all of us be unhappy if a cloud were to come between Gilbert and the sun, no matter how small it might be."

"What is it, papa? Don't you see you have put a stop to all the pleasantry by what you are saying?" Constance spoke up, and with some irritation of manner, too, I thought.

"It is a serious matter, Doll, and one that calls for sympathy if not active aid, and in this I know all will agree," Mr. Seymour went on, stopping as if the better to engage attention.

"What is it, Henry, if you are at all in earnest," Uncle Job now spoke up, "that can possibly threaten the happiness of one I love more than any one on earth, except--"

"Except Miss Betty, of course," Mr. Seymour responded, quietly. "There, don't blush, sweet lady. It was a slip of the tongue, and excusable, I am sure. I must believe, however, from what you say, Job, that you are something of a dissembler," Mr. Seymour went on; "for is it a light thing to cut off a young man without a settled income or hopes of any kind, as you are preparing to do? Yesterday Gilbert was an heir, your expectant heir; now how does it stand? Gilbert, you are undone, and by your uncle of all men!"

At this foolish ending there was a roar of laughter, in which I joined more heartily than any one else, for of the need of money I then knew nothing. I therefore cried out with great cheerfulness:

"I'm glad to give up my prospects to Miss Betty, for I shouldn't know what to do with money if I had it. Besides, the ladies, it is said, are less able to get on without it than the rest of us."

"There is another fling at women!" Miss Betty cried, gayly. "Fie, Gilbert, for you to slur us when you know I have always admired you next to--to--"

"Out with it, Miss Betty--next to Job, of course. How slyly they compliment each other, and properly, too; but it's a toss-up between Job and Gilbert, don't you think, Constance?" Mr. Seymour asked, turning to her.

"Yes, I'm sure it is, for I have always admired Mr. Throckmorton next to--to--Gilbert," Constance replied, with great pertness, looking at Miss Betty and laughing.

"Well, to straighten it out and make every one happy again, I propose, Betty, that we make him our joint heir, thus doubling his prospects," Uncle Job broke in, turning to her.

"I agree to that with all my heart," she cried in response, "and propose we toast him as such"; and this every one at once proceeded to do.

"That ought to be satisfactory, but still I very much fear Gilbert's prospects are in the dumps," Mr. Seymour responded, with mock gravity.

In this way, and with much similar talk and hilarity, the evening passed to the great enjoyment of every one present. Mr. Seymour, mindful of decorum, had named an early hour for the dinner, so that it was over in time not to shock the more staid of the community, who were ever of the opinion, in the infancy of the republic, that respectability and good hours went hand in hand.

*CHAPTER XLII*

*AN ADVENTURE*

The next day we all met in the Treasure room of the Dragon, but not altogether by chance I thought, however it might have appeared at first, for after a little talk about unimportant things, my future was brought up for discussion and settlement. Indeed, it was for this the meeting had been called, and it would have gone hard with me, I am convinced, except for Constance and the great tact she showed. For it appeared that Uncle Job and Mr. Seymour were both of the firm opinion that my education could no longer be neglected, and this being so I must at once go away to school. Upon their finally intimating as much, I, not knowing what to say, turned to Constance and implored her by a look to come to my aid. For to leave Appletop meant our parting, and this I was now in no way inclined to after having been away from her so long. Answering my appeal, the sweet girl went to her father, and placing her arms about his neck in the most winsome way you can imagine, said:

"Is Gilbert strong enough to do this, papa? See how pale he is; and you know he has not been himself since that dreadful storm. The trial, too, nearly broke his heart. You remember how he cried out, and you yourself were affected. It's only a little while, too, since he was so ill and we thought he was going to die. I should think you'd want him to get some strength before sending him away. Surely the school can wait."

"Why, you little puss, what do you know about Gilbert's health?" Mr. Seymour answered, returning her caress. "You talk as wise as a doctor."

"It doesn't need a doctor to tell, papa, for we all know what he has gone through. He never was strong, you know, and Fox told me only yesterday that they thought he never would come to that night at the Eagle's Nest"; and Constance looked at me as if distressed beyond measure at my uncertain health.

"That was a long time ago, puss."

"No, not a week; and think what he's passed through before and since!"

"He will be all the better for going. The change will do him good," Mr. Seymour answered, toying with her hair.

"Sometime, papa, but not now. Wait till he is strong. He can study with me; why not?"

"Oh, fie on you! But what do you think, Job?" Mr. Seymour asked after a pause. "Suppose we leave it until another day. There is some sense in what Kit says," he went on, patting her cheeks. "Gilbert doesn't look very rugged, and besides he could not do much before the summer vacation."

"I had not thought of his health," Uncle Job answered, looking me over as one might a horse he thought of running for first prize.

"Nor I; but it's as puss says, or a little that way," Mr. Seymour answered.

"Well, then, let the matter drop for the present," Uncle Job responded. "An education is not worth much if one breaks down in getting it. So go and build yourself up, young man, and we will talk about it again."

Thus happily, through Constance's sweet intervention, I was granted a further respite, and this more to my liking than I would have cared to tell, for I was now become greatly enamored of my liberty, and thought little of books, except as I might read them when Constance was by.

Being in this way freed from all anxiety, Constance and I did not lack for ways in which to pass the time agreeably in each other's company. If the weather happened to be fair, we rode or drove; or if there was snow, went coasting on the bluff back of the town. The thing, however, most to our liking, and of which we never tired, was skating. For this we went to the river, but later, and best of all, to Mr. Appletop's in the park across the road from the Dragon. This gentleman, now very old and feeble, was the father of the village, but a mystery to all its people, no one knowing his history, he having come into the country while it was still occupied by the Sacs and Foxes. A wanderer and misanthropist it was believed, he after a while married an Indian woman, and then, as if tired of roaming, settled down a little apart from the tribe in the house he still occupied. His wife dying about the time of Black Hawk's war, he remained when the Indians left, and in this way acquired a title to the land upon which the town stood. Being improvident and of careless habits, he had little by little parted with all his holdings until now he had scarce anything left save the park wherein his house stood. Here he lived without servants or companions of any kind, if I except a number of dogs he kept about him, some of which were of good breed, but in the main were of no account whatever. Seeing Constance and I skating one day on a small piece of ice beside the road, he asked us to come to the lake in his private grounds. This we did, to our great delight, and also to his no small pleasure, I must believe, for he used to sit and watch us and applaud everything Constance did for hours at a time.

In this manner, and to Constance's and my great happiness and the complete building up of my health then and for all time, the winter passed. In the spring, Uncle Job being away and having now no partner, he made me his agent to look after the house he was building in expectation of his marriage. This I found greatly to my liking, for in the work Constance and Miss Betty shared, and together we conceived many features in connection with the structure not common to the new country, nor contemplated in the plans Uncle Job had drawn. These, it was found, added to the cost, but he approved every one we proposed, claiming, and rightly enough, that they would cost less then than if added at a later period. After the house was built, much time was spent in furnishing, trips to Galena and Chicago being thought necessary in order to make sure we were getting the best of everything, and not patterns palmed off on our local merchants by the more fashionable purveyors in the larger towns.

While thus engaged I again suddenly changed my place of residence and manner of living, and this naturally enough. For, as might have been expected, my irregular life since leaving Wild Plum had made me impatient to see something of the great world outside, and so ready for any change that suggested itself. Of such things I often spoke to Constance, but not altogether to her liking, as I could plainly see by the expression of her eyes and more often by the tremor of her lips. In nothing, however, did the sweet creature array herself against anything I proposed, for had she done so I would have given it up, so great was my love for her. Thus we talked, at first vaguely, and then more particularly, but without anything definite, until one day we stood idly watching the War Eagle as she lay moored at the landing below Appletop, when suddenly seizing her hand, I cried out:

"Constance, I'm going to get a place on that boat if I can. It's the very thing we've talked about. What happiness to ride up and down the river and see the world, and earn your own living, too!"

At this outbreak she was so startled she could not speak, but after a while, turning to me with a sob, said, and sorrowfully enough:

"You'll not do that, Gilbert, and leave your Uncle Job and--me!"

"You, Constance--only you!" I answered. "Uncle Job has Miss Betty now, and so will not miss me," I answered.

"Oh, but he will! Please don't think of it any more, Gilbert. I should never see you again, I know," she answered, taking hold of my hands.

"Yes, you would, Constance, and often, too, for the boat is passing here all the time. When she ties up in the fall, I will come back, and it'll not be long, either."

"Your uncle will never forgive you, Gilbert. You are like a son to him, as you are to papa."

"I know, but I have got to make my way in the world sometime, and why not now?" I answered.

"Papa and your Uncle Job will help you to do that, and be glad of the chance."

"I know; but what more can they do than they have? And if I don't do this, Constance, I'll have to go away to school soon, and then I'll not see you for a long time, and maybe never. What if they should send me to New York, or thereabouts. It takes months to go, and I couldn't come back for years!"

This and much more I said to win her consent, but most of all the thought that if I went away to school she would see me no more, at last won her to my way. So with tears streaming down her dear face, she put her arms about my neck and bade me do as I wished.

"There's no one on earth so good and sweet as you, Constance," I cried, kissing her. Then, not waiting to say more, I ran down to the landing, calling to her to stay where she was until I returned.

The captain of the War Eagle was on the upper deck, and reaching the spot where he stood, I looked back to see Constance, sad and dejected, standing where I had left her. Much put out now the time had come to proffer my request, I knew not what to say or do, but presently, as the captain did not look around, I went up to him and made known my wish, but without any voice or heart whatever. To this he paid no attention any more than as if I had not spoken, but continued on with the business he had in hand. Plucking up courage after a while, I said, and now with more animation:

"Captain, I want to get a berth on your boat, if you please."

To this he made no reply, any more than in the first instance, but looking down called angrily to the mate about some matter that was going wrong; and this makes me think that I have never known men with such high tempers, or its semblance, as those who work on the rivers. For if the smallest thing goes wrong, they appear to fly into a furious passion; but no sooner has the occasion passed than you will see them laughing and talking as if nothing in the world could disturb the serenity of their tempers.

Angered beyond speaking at the captain's treatment, and observing Constance watching me, I now went close to him, and taking hold of his jacket gave it a jerk, calling out, loud enough to be heard half across the river:

"Captain, I want a place on your boat as cabin-boy."

Upon this he turned about, half in anger, and eying me a moment, demanded:

"What is that you want, young man?"

Upon this I repeated my request, but now more respectfully, and hearing me through he answered, pleasantly enough:

"I've no work for you, my son. You are not strong enough for a roustabout, nor tall enough to look after the berths, and besides the darkies attend to such things."

"I only want a place as cabin-boy, sir."

"You are not smart enough for that," he replied, looking me over.

"If I don't know, I can learn," I answered, seeing my hopes slipping away.

"You are too slight, my son, that is what I mean. There, go away; I have no time to talk to you," and with that he turned and faced the crew as before.

Rebuffed and discouraged, I stood still, but he taking no further notice of me, I at last made my way to the lower deck, and now by the opposite stairs, so as not to be seen from the shore. In this way I reached the farther side of the boat, where I stopped, filled with such disappointment and shame that I could not find it in my heart to go back to Constance. While thus waiting, not knowing what to do, a woman standing by my side gave a cry, and as she did so I heard a splash and at the same moment the wail of a frightened child.

"Oh, my God, my baby!" she screamed, wringing her hands and leaning over the water as if about to throw herself headlong into the stream. Looking down, the child had disappeared, but while I gazed it came to the surface a little way below, and doing so, threw up its hands imploringly as it again sank beneath the water. This distressing sight and the cries of the poor woman were such as would have stirred any one, and without thinking I threw off my shoes, and running to the spot where the child had disappeared, plunged into the stream. The water being clear, I found the little thing directly, and supporting it with my arm, brought it to the surface. Now, indeed, I was thankful to my dear father for having one day thrown me headlong into the pool at Wild Plum, in sport, he said, to make me swim whether I would or no. Putting my arm about the child, I lifted it to my shoulder, and with the other turned about to regain the boat. This I might easily have done had the water been still, but the current turning outward with the bend in the river, or from some other cause, carried me swiftly in the opposite direction. Saying some soft words to the child, I soon had it quieted, for it was in no way the worse for the ducking that I could see. Then, on its showing some further uneasiness, I made as if we were having a lark, whereupon it laughed, and taking up the water in its hand, dashed it in my face, crowing with glee, as if it were great sport. The little thing's weight was nothing, and I carried it as easily as I would a riding-whip; but having the use of only one arm I could make no headway whatever. As we drifted farther into the stream the current grew stronger, boiling and bubbling about us, but without adding much, if any, to the labor of keeping afloat. At first I plainly heard the captain giving orders to man the yawl, but while this was being done, the father of the child, a poor deck-hand, frenzied with grief, sprang into the river. This, foolishly, as it appeared, for he could not swim a stroke, and so sank where he fell. Thus he had first to be rescued, and when the boat at last turned in my direction I was but a speck on the distant water. The exertion of keeping afloat did not in any way tax my strength, but not knowing the cause of the delay I could not make out why they were so long in coming to our relief. Finally, no boat appearing, I thought they had given us up for lost. At this I was greatly discouraged, for I could see no way by which I could reach the shore unaided, because of the swift current, which now ran like a mill-race. While meditating on what I should do, I looked back, and to my great joy saw the boat coming toward us. At this I felt as good as new, and thus we floated on past the bend in the river, and out of sight. This only for a moment, for the boat quickly came into view again, throwing the spray high on either side, as if skimming the water like a bird. Then in a moment they lifted us aboard, and we were saved, the captain taking off his jacket and wrapping it about my body, the mate doing the same for my little companion. When we were thus tucked up, and not until then, the captain spoke, but it was no longer the voice I had heard, but that of a soft-hearted, compassionate man.

"How do you think you find yourself now, my son?"

"I'm all right, sir," I answered, as indeed I was.

"We should have reached you sooner, but for that fool of a deck-hand. I expect you found the water pretty cold?" he asked, fastening his jacket more securely about my body.

"Not at first, sir, nor enough to hurt. The little one, though, looks pinched. See how blue its lips are," I answered, no whit the worse for my bath.

Upon this the captain called to the mate to rub the child's hands and limbs and wrap it up more warmly, but the little thing was in nowise cast down. Brought up on the river, it looked on the water as its home, and this fortunately for me, for it gave me no trouble whatever, but from the first treated the whole thing as if it were play.

On our way back the shore was lined with the passengers and crew of the War Eagle and such of the townspeople as happened to be about, and among them I saw Constance with arms outstretched. At this I stood up in the boat and waved my hand, calling her name, and this I continued to do, that she might see I was safe and unharmed. When finally we reached the War Eagle, I made my way to where she stood, and putting my arms about her trembling form, held her, neither of us speaking. While we stood thus, the captain came up, and thinking we were brother and sister, said, out of compliment to her:

"You ought to be proud of your brother, my little lady!"

"Yes, sir; but he's not my brother," she answered, without offering to disengage herself from my arms.

"A cousin, or some relative?"

"No, sir."

"Your lover, then? Well, I like that best. Yes, yes, decidedly, that's as it should be. A few years, and they will soon pass, and then you will make a fine couple. Be always as you are now, though, for it was in that way my wife and I grew up; and now she is the finest woman in the world. Come, my son," he went on, "are you the lad that asked me for work?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"I thought so. Well, I have changed my mind; captains, you see, can do that as well as other people. If you don't know enough to be a cabin boy, you will learn, and of that I am sure. So if you still want the place, I shall be mighty glad to give it to you."

"Thank you," I answered; "I wish you would."

"When do you want to come aboard--to-day or on our return? For we shall be pulling out in a few minutes."

"Yes, to-day; and I'll be ready as soon as I can go to Appletop and back."

"You have plenty of time for that, or if not, we will wait for you. Now be off and get some dry clothing. We will furnish your uniform, and glad of the chance."

"Thank you, sir; I'll be back in half an hour," I answered, taking Constance's hand.

"Good by, little lady, and don't worry. I will take good care of him, and send him back to you as full of wisdom as a turtle," the captain called as we hurried away.

*CHAPTER XLIII*

*ON BOARD THE WAR EAGLE*

Accompanying Constance to her home, I returned with all haste, to find the War Eagle ready to cast off; and the captain seeing me come aboard, gave the word, whereupon the boat backed into the stream. No sooner had I set foot on deck, however, than the roustabouts and emigrants flocked about me as if I were a lord, determined to make a great deal out of what I had done. This is always the way, though, and grows out of the natural amiability of men and the desire they have to be agreeable. Among the foremost to welcome me were the child's father and mother, the latter holding the little thing high above her head. Upon perceiving me, it reached out its hands, and seeing this I took it in my arms, but more to please its father and mother than anything else. For, like most men, I have never had any great fancy for strange children. The father and mother I could hardly shake off, and throughout their lives, all too short, they loved me and never tired of going out of their way to do me some office of kindness. Telling them, and truly enough, that if I had not done what I did, others would, I finally got off, and so made my way to the captain on the upper deck. He received me kindly, and upon my answering that I was ready to go to work, sent for Mr. Devlin, the third steward, and put me in his charge. This gentleman, when stripped of all superfluity of title, I found to be the head waiter, and nothing more. Taking me to his room, he offered me the half of it, which kindness I gladly accepted. Here I was fitted out with my uniform of light shoes, duck trousers, and jacket to match, a military cap completing the outfit. Thus arrayed I looked far more like a dapper young cadet, I thought, than the country-bred lad I was.

As the day was partly spent, Mr. Devlin told me I need not go on duty till the next morning, and in the mean time might look about and acquaint myself with the boat and the duties I was to perform. Thanking him, I first of all sought out those who were to be my companions, and these I found to be agreeable young fellows, mostly the sons of farmers and small traders living about the river towns. They one and all received me kindly, as did the lower officers, so that I was at once put at my ease among them. After that I made a tour of the War Eagle, and a fine vessel she was, with side-wheels, and a sharp prow that stuck out like the nose of a fox, and in a way that seemed to invite other boats to follow. A band of gold encircled her side, and at the summit of her flagstaff an eagle perched as if about to fly. Another like it, but of burnished gold, hung suspended between the smokestacks, and this with outstretched wings and eager neck, as if all its strength were put forth to keep up with the noble vessel.

Going through the boat, and critically, as one having some knowledge of these things, I found it far beyond what I had thought, and such as to fulfill in everyway the captain's pride of ownership. The management and practices on board, too, were also in keeping and orderly, as I soon came to know. For the captain was a fine business man, and neither drank nor gambled, nor encouraged such things in others. This, every one agreed, was greatly to his honor, considering that the receipts of the tap-room were wholly dependent upon such lines of custom, and by his giving way ever so little its earnings might have been greatly increased. Being a firm man, however, he was never led astray by prospect of gain once he had made up his mind in regard to a thing of this nature. He was also strenuous in respect to matters of conduct in others. Thus, he would have it that all gaming should cease promptly at break of day, and this so that the business of the boat and the comfort of other passengers might not be interfered with unduly. If there were exceptions to the rule, they were infrequent and such as could not properly be criticised, being called forth by the prominence of the guests, or for some other equally good reason. Another thing he did that was commendable was this: Whenever guests became incompetent from drink, and so as to scandalize the management or create disorder, he would insist that they should abstain from further indulgence for the time being, and if still incompetent, should go to their rooms. I could recite a hundred instances like these, if necessary, to prove his fine sense and firm determination not to let matters drift as the captains of some vessels were in the habit of doing, to the great scandal of the river and its business.

After I had finished the round of the boat, I went to join Mr. Devlin, and this young gentleman I found stretched in his bunk, reading Kent's Commentaries, or something like that. For it was his ambition, it appeared, to become a lawyer, and his present duties were only a means thereto. Notwithstanding this, he easily surpassed every one about him in the business we had in hand. For once a guest had been served, and opportunity afforded Mr. Devlin to get a look at him, he knew from that time on better than the man himself what dishes pleased him best. A passenger had but to move his lips or raise his eyes, and he was off like a shot to procure what was wanted. If we did not happen to have the thing asked for, which was sometimes the case, though not often, he was never abrupt or rude in making it known, as less skillful persons would have been, but tactful, so that in the end the passenger felt that nothing in the world could have been more inopportune than his request. Thus he kept every one in good humor and taught his subordinates, by example and otherwise, the science of doing obscure things well. Often, too, it fell out that some of us small fry would get into trouble with a guest, whereupon Mr. Devlin would be called, and always to the extinguishment of the passenger. For, while he did not deny that we were in the wrong, he in the end never failed to bring about our vindication. This, however, only to such as he thought were doing their best. The others he sent ashore with their pack and such small savings as the clerk had to their credit at the first landing.

Unused to business or any kind of stir, I thought it fine to be doing something, but strive as I would I could never come up to the needs of the office. Of all the things set me to do, however, I found it hardest to remember the names of the dishes to be served at dinner and the order in which they were prescribed. For we had no written or printed bill of fare, as was afterward the custom, and as, indeed, some of the more wastefully managed boats had at the time of which I speak. These lapses of memory, so strange and inexcusable, were a constant source of mortification to me, for none of my companions had any difficulty in saying off the names glibly enough. To overcome this weakness I put forth every effort, but never with any success to speak of. Thus, acquainting myself with the names of the dishes in advance, I would con them over till I had them at my tongue's end; but when I approached a guest and sought to repeat them in order, they vanished from my mind as if I had never heard them. This not wholly, but in part, and usually the more important dishes, such as rare meats and particular pies, held in high esteem by our customers. Perhaps if some irate guest had rebuked me, I might have mended, but no such thing happened. For sometimes, when one would face about with kindling eye as if to say some rude thing, they would turn it off in another way. Why, I do not know, unless it might be because of my heightened color and look of shame. My companions soon came to know my failing, and so would stop as they passed to and fro to set me right, or recite at length the dishes that were being served. Because of this I labored the harder to master the business, but never, as I have said, with any success. Truly, I would often say to myself in shame, the captain was right when he said I was not smart enough for the business. No, alas! and never would be.

We had breakfast on the War Eagle at seven, and dinner at twelve, supper being served at six. With the first and last I got on very well, as there were but few dishes and they easily remembered. Dinner being an elaborate affair and made much of by the captain, I could in no way get the hang of it. Because of these lapses I mourned much in secret, and came to look forward to the hour with direful forebodings. Mr. Devlin, in his great kindness, placed me at the upper end of the saloon, where the ladies sat, and this, I knew, because they were less exacting than the men. Indeed, I was every day in debt to one or more of these dear creatures for some act of forbearance or gentle office of kindness in this connection. Sometimes, when I blundered more than usual, I would glance in affright at the captain to see if he noticed my awkwardness, and doing so would perhaps see a frown on his face; but when he saw me looking toward him he would smile in the most amiable way possible and as if greatly pleased at the deftness I showed in a business so perplexing. This forbearance endeared him to me the more, but without in any way lessening the shame I felt at not being able to do as well as the others. Indeed, in the end, it so preyed upon me that I went to Mr. Devlin and asked to be put in the pantry to look after the knives and forks. This he would by no means do, saying I got along very well, and that no complaint had ever been made by the captain or any guest. Encouraged by this, I redoubled my efforts to please, but without ever being able to come up to any just expectation of what I was required to do.

One of my duties, and that which I liked best, was to see that the pilots were supplied with drinking-water and such small things as their business required, which the fixedness of their work did not permit them to look after themselves. This took me to the wheelhouse, and many times, I am sure, when there was no excuse for it. For of all places this was the best for seeing what was going on, and especially for watching the river and the country round about. Had I been older, I thought, I should have sought to learn the trade of pilot, for save that of captain, it seemed to me the most considerable in the world. To know the channel by day or night and be able to carry the boat forward and be its master were things apart and worthy of any man's strivings.

The work of the cabin boys was not hard, nor their hours long. We were up at sunrise and off duty at seven in the evening. After that we were our own masters; and it was my habit, if the weather was not too rough, to spend my spare time on the upper deck or in the pilot-house. Thus midnight often found me, and reluctant to go to my room, where I was always sure to find Devlin poring over his studies.

Of all the things that happened, and they were many, the most romantic, I thought, was the landing at night for wood. Then the torches, placed here and there, lit up the dark forest and glistening water, making them look for all the world as if they were alive to what we were doing. At such times the patient roustabouts, running back and forth, amid the cries of the mate, gave to the scene the air of being a place of punishment, where lost souls were scourged with blows and curses to do more than lay in the power of men. This, I have often thought in my more mature years, was not far from the real truth, though the necessity of haste in the business of such carriers makes those in charge impatient of delay, and so perhaps more prone to lose their tempers than other men.

Thus the summer and fall passed as the War Eagle went back and forth between the fair city of St. Louis and the distant posts on the upper river. St. Louis was then the most considerable city in the West, and well worth studying by those seeing the world. Because of this I sought in every way during our visits to increase my knowledge of its affairs; and thus it fell out that here for the first time I found my way to the theater one hot night in midsummer. This not advisedly, as it turned out, for demanding a ticket at the office, and the agent being busy over his accounts, answered absently:

"Where?"

Not knowing what he meant, I replied at random:

"Anywhere, if you please."

At this he looked up, and seeing me, cried out with great promptness and show of gayety:

"Ha, no coat! From the country. To the gods with you"; and straightway handed me a bit of paper and claimed his quarter.

Not among the gods, but rather with the damned in hell, I thought, on climbing to my seat, for I could conceive of no hotter place than that in which I found myself. Here, too, I lost what small change I had about me, and this by the help of a pleasant-spoken young man who sat beside me and was at pains to point out the fine points of the play, and otherwise entertain me with stories of the town, in the intervals of the acts. This adventure, because of my inexperience, discouraged me from making further excursions of a like nature, so that thereafter I was content with such exterior views of the city as my short stature and the crowded streets would permit.

*CHAPTER XLIV*

*THE STEAMBOAT RACE*

The season, which had been a highly prosperous one for the War Eagle, at last drew to a close, and when, late in October, we left St. Louis on our last trip, travel had ceased, and we were without passengers of any kind save a few emigrants for Keokuk and the towns thereabouts. Nor did we have any freight to speak of, but were promised a load on the down run, and this it was that had induced the captain to make the venture so late in the year. Of the cabin boys only Devlin and I remained, and like reductions had been made elsewhere throughout the crew. Thus lightened of men and merchandise, our good boat skimmed the water like the seagull she was.

The War Eagle was the pride of the upper river, excelling all others in beauty of outline and speed, so that the most ill-natured did not venture to question her supremacy. As the season was closing, however, whispers crept about the landings that the new boat, the Northern Light, was the better of the two. These insinuations our people did not regard, for if this were so, why did she always leave ahead of us, or lag behind when we pulled into the stream? Other signs there were of fear, too plain not to be seen of all men. Still the whispers went on, till at last there had come to be a settled belief on the part of many that the Northern Light was the faster boat. This was mere boasting, it was plain, for now we were making our last trip without having once heard the roar of her wheels or the boom of her exhaust alongside the War Eagle. Surely there could be no better proof than this, if proof were needed. Thus matters stood when one crisp afternoon, just as the sun was setting, we turned into the Appletop landing, and this happily, we thought, for there lay the Northern Light with steam up, as if awaiting our coming. Pert and trim she was, too, we could not help but own, riding the water like a wood-duck ready for flight. Looking her over from out the corner of his eye, Captain McGonnigle discharged the little business we had, and taking all the wood aboard we could carry, signaled the mate to cast off. This in such haste, too, that I had scarce time to say good by to Constance, who, with Setti, had awaited our coming.

As we backed into the stream, the Northern Light preceded us, and reaching the channel, took the opposite side, and doing so slowed down her engines. Surely invitation was never more plainly or courteously given! Now at last they were going to see which was the better boat, and fairly, as such things should be. Mounting to the top of the pilot-house, a thing most unusual with him, Captain McGonnigle signaled to put on all steam; and even as he gave the order great clouds of black smoke, changing soon to gray, belched forth from the towering stacks of the War Eagle. Nor was it long before the heightened roar of the exhaust told him his summons had been effective, and that the Northern Light would not find us lagging in the race. Thus in a few moments we found ourselves in the channel, the Northern Light, with her wheels slowly turning, awaiting our coming, as if not desiring advantage of any kind. Seeing this, Captain McGonnigle smiled and raised his cap to the other captain in graceful recognition of his fairness. With this friendly act, however, all intercourse between them ceased, for it was not a question of courtesy now, but of supremacy, in which the good name of the War Eagle hung trembling in the balance. Squaring himself and looking forward, Captain McGonnigle became from this time on lost to everything save the windings of the channel and the movements of the two boats. Straightway as they shot ahead a stillness as of death took possession of all on board, for in the hearts of the most hopeful there could not but be a doubt as to which would prove the faster now that the struggle was fairly on. As the vessels gained in speed, the water, already tipped with white-caps, flew high above their prows, spraying the decks and those who stood watching as with a falling shower. Behind, it tossed and foamed, white and glistening, like an angry cataract, as far as the eye could see in the gathering night. High above the swash of the wheels and the noise of the escaping steam, and as if in emphasis, the sharp clang of the bells could be plainly heard as the captains called for sharper fires. Scarce would one cease to vibrate than the other would take it up, and this with angry vehemence, as if the previous summons had been neglected or only half fulfilled.

Thus the challenge rang back and forth as we stood watching and listening, doing nothing, nor able to do anything. In this way night came on, and the stars flared out in the peaceful sky, but without any one regarding them, or, indeed, knowing that the day had set. Now lights began to blaze forth from the cabins of the struggling boats, and at every prescribed place, fore and aft, and amidships, the signals of the river gave forth their warning. About the furnaces, red with heat, the glare of the fires threw a lurid light over the gurgling waters and the toiling stokers as they bent over their work, stripped to the waist and streaming with sweat. Till now no gain had been made by either boat; or, if in the windings of the channel, which the sharp prows followed as bloodhounds do their quarry, the inner circle, shortening the distance, gave some advantage, it was quickly lost in the next turning, where the circle was reversed. Thus, amid the cheering, first of one crew and then the other, the boats flew onward, the water beside their prows sparkling as if the river were aflame from the friction of the flying vessels.

Increasing her speed by greater skill in firing, or some cunning device held in reserve for such emergencies, the War Eagle stretched away as a greyhound will when its prey is full in view, yet without gaining any advantage, however small. Nay, the other presently bringing into play a trick not before employed, began to forge ahead. This for no reason that we could see, until at last, the flash of her fires lighting up the interior of the vessel, discovered her crew pouring oil on the fuel, and at intervals flinging great balls steeped in the liquid substance into the roaring furnaces. At the sight Captain McGonnigle threw up his hands, crying out: "God save us!" as if astonished beyond measure at the recklessness of the thing. Regaining himself after a moment, his brow darkened, and bending over he ordered the engineer to push the fires as the other was doing. With his speaking, and as if action had only awaited his command, the War Eagle responded to the added force, and so regained after a while the few feet it had lost. Now great flames burst from the tops of the heated smokestacks, rising high in the air, and falling, left streams of fire to slowly sink into the glistening river far behind. Such flames, indeed, we had seen bursting from the Northern Light, but, simple-minded, we ascribed them to their greater skill in firing. In this way the War Eagle plowed her way through the darkness, passing one after another the little towns at which we had thought to stop, but now giving them no attention whatever. Making no gain, Captain McGonnigle at last looked about as if to discover some way by which he might increase the speed of his vessel, but without result. Seeing this, I approached him, and plucking his sleeve, cried at the top of my voice, so as to make myself heard:

"Wouldn't it help the boat, sir, if we lifted the yawl that's dragging at the stern?"

This weight he seemed not to have thought of, and was on the point of directing me to have the boat hoisted, when, reflecting, he shook his head, saying:

"Go and see if their boat is dragging, and if it is, leave ours."

This practice will seem strange to you, but at the time of which I speak was common enough. The landing-places were then far apart, you must know, so that it was the custom to take on passengers or put them ashore at intermediate points; and to save time in such emergencies, a yawl or light boat was allowed to drag ready for use, except that the oars were removed to prevent their being stolen.

Upon receiving the captain's order I hastened to the lower deck, where I found our yawl dragging in the water, as I have said. Turning to the Northern Light, I clearly made out its boat tied in like manner, and in the stern one of the crew resting at his ease. Envying him his seat, and reasoning that we ought not to enjoy any unfair advantage, as the captain himself had thought, I slipped into our boat, and untying the rope, let it run out through the ring that held it, until in this way I had dropped back a yard or more. Thus master of the situation, I could at will come close under the deck of the War Eagle or remain away, as I might wish. Reclining in the stern of the boat, wearied with the excitement of the evening, I was soothed and rested by the swash of the water as it tossed the light craft in which I lay this way and that. Yet without in any way losing interest in the race, for now a new view presented itself, and this more picturesque, I thought, than the other. Above my head clouds of fire and escaping steam flew across the reddened sky, while about me the air was filled with spray, which, falling on my upturned face, wet it as with a refreshing dew. Before me the War Eagle groaned and creaked, and a little way off the other vessel, not less strenuous, put forth her every effort to gain some slight advantage, but unsuccessfully, as one could plainly see.