"Are you sure he's asleep in the cabin?"
Frank asked this question in a low tone, some days after the adventure
with the panther. He and his three chums were loitering on deck at the
time. It was about the middle of the afternoon; and complaining of
feeling sleepy, old Luther had vanished within the cabin.
"Yes, I just went in to get something; and he was snoring on his cot,"
replied Will; "but what's up, Frank?"
"He's got something to tell us about the old man," remarked Jerry. "I've
seen him watching Luther when he thought the passenger we've had
fastened on us wouldn't be noticing him. Out with it, old fellow."
"I've made up my mind that his name isn't Luther Snow at all," Frank
remarked, in a whisper.
"Then what might it be, Frank?" asked Bluff, casting a quick glance
toward the door of the cabin.
"What would you say to Marcus Stackpole?" queried the other, coolly.
Various exclamations told of the boys' astonishment.
"How under the sun did you ever jump on to that?" demanded Jerry.
So Frank had to tell them the many reasons he had for believing it to be
the positive truth; and as he talked the others began to see light too.
"That would account for the way he just made us take him on," said Will.
"Yes," added Bluff, "even when we made him up a purse, he went on down
the river, and laid for us again, with a yarn about the skipper of a
packet jumping him because his money gave out. Well, we swallowed it
all, like a lot of innocents, for a fact. Frank, honest now, I believe
you've hit the truth, and that that little black launch that used to
hover around was his boat."
"He must have let 'em know someway that his passage was secured, because
I haven't noticed it around for weeks now," remarked Jerry, with a nod
of his head.
"But why under the sun do you suppose he wants to be with us on the _Pot
Luck_?" demanded Will.
"That's what I can't tell you," Frank replied. "I only know that he acts
as if he wants to stick to us all the way to New Orleans; and that Uncle
Felix seemed to be afraid he'd do that very same thing. Chances are,
we'll never know what it all means until we get there, and ask your
uncle to explain."
"Well, do we carry him there?" asked Bluff.
"I should say not, if we know it," was the way Jerry vented his opinion.
"And as my uncle impressed it on me that, above all people, I mustn't
take Marcus Stackpole aboard, I think we ought to get rid of him right
away," Will declared.
"Yes, that's easy to say, but how're we going to do it?" Jerry broke in
with. "The old fellow seems to like it here; yes, and I rather guess
he's taken something of a fancy to the bunch of us, too. He sticks worse
than a mustard plaster on your back. Talk of Sinbad, and the Old Man of
the Sea; Luther could give 'em points on how to stay right there."
"Leave it to Frank," interrupted Will. "He's got a plan, I'm sure;
haven't you?"
"Well, here it is in a nutshell," remarked Frank, smiling at the
confidence the other chum seemed to have in his ability to meet a
situation; "we'll get to Memphis to-morrow, you see. Thinking that we
mean to put him ashore only at Vicksburg, below, Luther will have no
chance to play sick; so we can work the little racket."
"Are we in it, too, Frank?" asked Bluff.
"Yes, you and Jerry are to go ashore after we tie up, to get some
things, besides the mail. An hour later you'll have come back, with your
errands done; but remember you're not to come aboard, or show
yourselves. Then I'll recollect something I wanted you to do very much.
Will, at the time, can be deep in some business connected with his
photography, and I can't send him to hunt you up at the store; so I'll
ask old Luther to please take the bottle to get filled."
"That's dead easy," muttered Bluff; "he'll fall into the trap; and after
he's out of sight Jerry 'nd I'll slip aboard, when we part company with
our passenger. Say, I'll be a little sorry, someway, too; for after all,
he's not such a bad sort."
"But, Frank, how will he know what our meaning is?" Will inquired.
"I have all that planned out," Frank went on. "I'll give him a note to
hand to Jerry here. When he can't find him, and discovers that we've
left him in the lurch, of course he'll think to open it. It will be a
few lines written to him, telling that we have found out who he is; and
that as Uncle Felix positively ordered us not to carry Marcus Stackpole
as a passenger, we have had to send him adrift. I'll enclose a
ten-dollar bill in the letter. That would take him to New Orleans if
he's really what he claims. That's to ease my conscience in the matter,
boys."
"And a good scheme, too!" remarked Bluff.
"It takes Frank to think 'em up; I always said so," Will added.
They did not dare talk along that line any further, for fear the object
of their conversation would suddenly come out of the cabin, and seeing
them looking so mysterious, scent enough of the truth to keep on his
guard the following day, which would interfere very much with Frank's
plan.
During the balance of that afternoon and the evening that followed, all
the boys tried hard to appear natural whenever Luther was around. He may
have thought they looked a little queer at times; but at least they gave
him no reason to believe that his secret was known.
It was about ten the next morning that the hawser was made fast to a
wharf at the river front of Memphis; which lies on a sort of bluff, high
above the Mississippi.
The two chums went ashore, with numerous errands to do, that they
declared would take them until noon. Yet in less than one hour later
Frank caught the whistle from the cotton piles on the levee, that told
him Bluff and Jerry were back, "keeping shady" until he could carry out
his part of the little programme.
Will was very busy just then, dabbling in his daylight developing bath,
so that anyone could see it was utterly out of the question for him to
leave, and go on an errand.
Frank carried out his part of the plan very cleverly. And old Luther,
taking the note which Frank had purposely sealed in an envelope, went
ashore, and up toward the city. After he had vanished from view two
skulking figures came aboard, chuckling with delight over the apparent
success of Frank's plan.
"Get the hawser aboard, and let's push off," said Frank, a little
concerned lest Luther should come in sight even then, and demand to be
taken back.
The boys worked with willing hands, and in a short time the _Pot Luck_
was once more afloat, drifting down the wide river, and leaving Memphis
and Luther Snow behind.
Still, none of the boys seemed as jubilant as they had anticipated, in
getting rid of their incubus. The fact was, that Luther had somehow
rather gained a little hold upon their affections, and secretly they
were sorry to have him go. Only for that strange clause in the note of
Uncle Felix they might have allowed him to remain on board the houseboat
until New Orleans was reached, no matter if he were Marcus Stackpole or
not.
Often would they ponder over this strange matter; and it must form the
subject of more than a few earnest talks; yet, not having the key to the
puzzle, they must always confess themselves baffled. As Frank had truly
said, the riddle was not to be solved until they stood face to face with
the gentleman who owned the _Pot Luck_, and they had plied him with
questions.
Often when some darky from the bank would call out a sportive remark,
intended for those aboard the passing houseboat, the boys would look at
each other in a queer way. For the same idea must have flashed into the
mind of each one; and this that it might be the wily Marcus Stackpole
trying a new game upon them, with the idea of once more getting aboard
the _Pot Luck_.
Below Vicksburg they took stock of the time, and found that in all they
had been just seven weeks on the voyage. Another one ought to see them
safely at their journey's end, if all went well.
Being on a boat that could only drift, there was no chance to attempt
any of the numerous "cutoffs" that began to be met with, every day now.
And so sticking to the big river, they "boomed" along on the flood from
shortly after daylight up to nearly dark, covering scores of miles each
day with the swift flow of the current.
The Southern plantation scenes were of great interest to the boys; and
Will rapidly diminished the number of his film rolls, snapping laughable
pictures of the dusky toilers of the cotton and sugarcane; together with
the numerous broods of pickaninnies that gathered around, every time
they stopped at a little "wood-station," where certain boats were in the
habit of tying up to load pine cordwood for the boiler.
And one night, when the heavens were cloudy, and there seemed a prospect
of rain at any minute, they had an unexpected surprise that showed how
strangely Fate could manage things.
Frank had tied up a short distance above what looked to be a wood
landing, where some sort of boat was secured. They had arrived rather
late, and the darkness had gathered so quickly that they were not able
to get a good view of this craft, just barely seen through some trees
located on a low point.
Not wishing to be bothered by visitors, and have more or less noise
around until a late hour of the night, they had chosen this way of
avoiding it.
Supper had been prepared, and was long since placed "where it could do
the most good," as Bluff declared. And the four chums were sitting
around on the deck, enjoying the cool evening breeze; for the day had
been a very hot one, which made the prospect of a storm rather
promising.
Somehow or other the conditions made them speak of that night when they
ran to the fire, and were overtaken by the storm. Imagine the
astonishment of the others when Frank suddenly exclaimed:
"Talking about fires, fellows, seems to me that looks like one right
now, down below the point jutting out, and where we saw that boat tied
up! Wouldn't it be a funny thing now if history chose to repeat itself,
with the rain coming along, too."
And looking as he said, the other three lads saw a bright glow beginning
to show; while loud cries arose, that seemed to tell of alarm.