UP THE RIVER.
Clarence called a dray, and had all Flora's things conveyed to the house
he was fitting up as his residence. The raft and its apparatus he sold,
and he gave me the money. This was the end of the craft which had
brought us on our voyage of seventeen hundred and fifty miles. We
returned to the house of Mr. Goodridge in the afternoon.
The physician had only repeated his advice that Emily must have a change
of climate. Her father had already decided to accompany her to the North
himself. Clarence declared that Flora must not stay in the city during
the sickly season. He had been married a month before, and if we had
remained in Torrentville, the letter he wrote to us just before the
happy event would doubtless have reached us. It had been his plan to
start for New York early in August, and to return to New Orleans by the
way of the West in October, taking Flora and me with him. Our unexpected
arrival changed his purpose. In the course of a week it was arranged
that we should go to Torrentville at once, and Mr. Goodridge and his
daughter were to accompany us.
Flora and I remained at the house of the merchant during our stay in the
city, though we frequently saw my brother's wife. She soon became much
attached to Flora; the gentle invalid was so patient and loving that she
could not help it. If there had been no cloud hanging over me, I should
have been very happy in the bright prospect before me; but I hoped, when
we arrived at Torrentville, that Squire Fishley would find a way to
extricate me from my dilemma.
"Buck," said Clarence to me, on the day before we started, "you begin
life under brighter auspices than I did. Mr. Goodridge has just paid
over to me the sum of ten thousand dollars, to be invested for you, and
to be paid over to you when you are of age."
"Ten thousand dollars!" I exclaimed, amazed at the magnitude of the sum.
"And the same sum for Flora. Well, twenty thousand dollars is not much
for him. He is a very rich man, and Emily is his pet. He has three sons;
but all of them are bad boys, and all his hope in this world rests in
his daughter. You are a lucky fellow, Buck."
"I didn't think of anything of this kind," I added, filled with wonder
at my good fortune.
"I don't say you didn't deserve it; for, according to all accounts, you
behaved well, and the girl would certainly have been drowned if you had
not saved her. I am proud of you, Buck; but I wish you were well out of
this Torrentville scrape."
That worried him; and, indeed, it worried me, after I had heard so much
said about it. If I had understood the matter as well in the time of it
as I did afterwards, doubtless I should not have trusted to flight for
safety, but faced my accusers. My sudden departure could not have failed
to confirm the suspicions of Captain Fishley, and probably Ham had made
the best use of the circumstances.
The next day we went on board of a fine steamer bound to St. Louis.
State-rooms had been engaged for the whole party, and I should be glad
to tell the story of the journey if space would permit. We enjoyed it
very much, and on the way I pointed out to my companions the various
objects of interest connected with the slower voyage of the raft. At
first Emily was timid on board of the steamer; but her father introduced
the captain to her, and he assured her that the boilers were new, and
that he never raced with other boats under any circumstances. She
acquired confidence. Her health had improved a great deal, and she was
able to sit up all day.
At St. Louis we took another steamer, and from that were transferred to
a third, which went up the Wisconsin River. When we arrived at
Riverport, I felt as though I was at home, though I dreaded to appear
again in Torrentville. At St. Louis I had written a long letter to
Squire Fishley, narrating all the facts of the robbery of the mail, and
the charge against me. I assured him I should keep the promise I had
made to him, if I had to die in jail for doing so, and that he might do
as he pleased about assisting me. I told him our party would be in
Riverport by the 10th of June, and wished him to write me there,
advising me what to do.
On my arrival at Riverport I went to the post-office, and obtained the
letter which was waiting for me. The senator wrote that he would meet me
in Riverport as soon after the 10th of June as his business would
permit. He thanked me very warmly for keeping his secret so well, and
assured me I should not suffer for my fidelity to him.
This letter made me happy. I told Clarence that the gentleman who had
given me the money was coming to my relief, and would be in Riverport
within a few days. As the party were pleasantly situated at the hotel,
it was decided to remain until the "mysterious personage," as Clarence
called him, made his appearance. Then the awkward fact that when he did
come he would be recognized, by my friends, as the tippler who had
fallen overboard, would be disclosed; and I blamed myself for what I had
said to them. I stated my dilemma to Clarence, and he placed the whole
party under the seal of secrecy.
I had promised not to tell who had given me the money. I had not done
so; but I had said enough to enable my friends to know who he was when
the squire came. It was awkward, but I could not help it, though I
blamed myself for saying even as much as I did.
Emily and I had become fast friends. Before we started from New Orleans,
Clarence had dressed me up in a new suit of black clothes, and I
flattered myself that I was not a bad-looking fellow. I was satisfied
that Emily did not think I was an ill-favored young man. We had some
pleasant walks at the places where we stopped.
I was very impatient for the arrival of Squire Fishley. I expected him
the day after we reached Riverport; but he did not come. In the evening
I went to the vicinity of the post-office, and had a view of Darky and
the wagon; but it was driven by a strange boy, who had been employed to
take my place. I did not care to be recognized by any one from
Torrentville; but as this boy did not know me, I ventured to go up and
pat my friend the black horse on the neck. The old fellow seemed to
know me, and whether he enjoyed the interview or not, I am sure I did.
While I was caressing the horse, the new boy came out of the office with
the mail-bag in his hand. He looked curiously at me, and seemed to
wonder how I happened to be on such good terms with his horse.
"What's the news up to Torrentville?" I asked.
"Nothing particular, as I know of," he replied, looking hard at me.
"Is Captain Fishley there now?"
"Yes."
"How's Ham?"
"First rate."
"How long have you driven the mail team?"
"Going on three weeks. You see the feller that drove it before robbed
the mail, and had to run away."
"Did he? What became of him?"
"That's what puzzles 'em. They can't git no clew to him. He cleared
about two months ago, and they hain't seen hide nor hair on him sence.
Do you know him?"
"Know whom?" I asked, startled by this direct question.
"Buck Bradford, the feller that robbed the mail and run away."
"Why do you ask?"
"O, nothin'; only the postmaster here told me to tell Captain Fishley
that a letter came here for Buck Bradford, and that a young feller took
it out. You haven't seen nothin' on him--have you?"
I did not choose to answer this question, and I edged off, without
making any reply. It appeared that I was generally known in Torrentville
as the mail robber, who had run away to escape the consequences of his
crime. The reflection galled me; but the day of redemption was at hand.
I did not quite like it that the postmaster had sent word of my presence
in Riverport to my tyrants; for I did not wish to be taken up before the
arrival of my most important witness. I deemed it prudent, therefore, to
keep out of sight to some extent, though I did not put myself out much
about it.
Squire Fishley did not come on the second day after our arrival, to my
very great disappointment, for I began to fear that I should be snapped
up by some greedy constable. The keeper of the hotel, who did not
recognize me in the trim suit I wore, had a very handsome keel boat,
prettily painted, which he kept for the use of the pleasure travel
frequenting his house. Sim and I had rowed our friends up and down the
river in this boat, and I engaged it for the third day, as soon as I
found that the senator was not a passenger on the down-river steamer. I
intended to make a long excursion in her, as much to keep myself out of
the way, as for the fun of it. I invited Emily and Flora to go, and they
gladly accepted the invitation.
[Illustration: THE ARREST OF BUCK BRADFORD.--Page 277.]
After breakfast we embarked, with a plentiful supply of luncheon on
board, for we did not mean to return till the middle of the afternoon. I
proposed to go up the creek, and then up the branch to the swamp, where
we had started on our long voyage upon the raft. Sim and I pulled
cheerfully, and our passengers were delighted with the trip. We entered
the gloomy swamp; but the river had fallen, so that its banks were no
longer covered with water. I showed Emily the place where Sim and I had
built the raft. We landed, and walked up the slope far enough for her to
see the house and store of the Fishleys. In the cool shade of the
swamp we lunched, and enjoyed ourselves to the utmost. My fair companion
was an interested listener, and wished to know every particular in
regard to the raft, which had been the means of saving her life.
About three o'clock we started to return, and the passage was so
pleasant that it seemed like a dream of fairy-land. I sat at the after
oar, with Emily directly in front of me; and I am not altogether sure
that this circumstance was not the origin of the fairy idea; at any
rate, her presence enhanced the joy of the occasion. All went merry as a
marriage bell till we reached a part of the river called the Ford.
At this stage of the river the water was not three feet deep; and, just
as we were passing the shoalest part of the Ford, two men leaped into
the water, and waded out to the boat. Sim and I were resting on our oars
at the time, and so sudden was the movement that I had no time to get
out of the way.
One of these men seized the boat, and the other, in whom I recognized
Stevens, the constable from Torrentville, grasped me by the collar, and
dragged me out of the boat to the shore.
"We have got you at last," said the officer.
"Hookie!" shouted Sim, as he stood up in the boat gazing at me, with his
eyes distended, and his mouth wide open.
My tyrants had me again.