CHAPTER XXXI.

CAMPMATES TURN RAFTMATES.

"Wow wow w-o-w-w!" howled Bim, with his ridiculous nose uplifted and a

most melancholy expression of countenance. He felt in duty bound to

accompany his master's singing, but on this occasion, at least, he

brought it to a sudden conclusion, for no one could possibly sing in

face of the uproarious laughter that greeted his outburst.

"That's always the way," remarked Billy Brackett, with a comical

expression. "I never am allowed to prove what I am really capable of

in the vocal line. But what are you boys doing here? Where did you

come from, where are you going, and how in the name of all that is

obscure and remarkable do you happen to be on board our raft?"

"Your raft?" echoed Glen Elting. "What do you mean by your raft? We

called it our raft until a few minutes ago, and now we call it Mr.

Caspar's raft."

"Yes, I know. Major Caspar's raft. But it's all the same as ours, for

I am his brother-in-law, and have his written authority to dispose of

it as I see fit. Besides, this is his son, and we have been hunting

this raft for the best part of a month. By-the-way, Winn, these are

two old, or rather two young, campmates of mine, Mr. Glen Eddy--I mean

Matherson; no, I beg pardon--Elting is the name at present, I believe."

"Do you know him intimately?" interrupted Winn, slyly.

Billy Brackett made a dive at the boy, but as the latter leaped nimbly

aside, he continued: "And Mr. Binney Gibbs, popularly known as 'Grip.'

Gentlemen, this impudent young vil-ly-an is my nephew, Mr. Winn Caspar."

Instead of acknowledging this introduction, Glen and Binney looked

curiously at each other. Then the former said, "There seems to be

something wrong here, Billy, for we have just turned this raft over to

its owner, Mr. Winn Caspar, and he is in the house here at this moment."

"That's all right," replied Billy Brackett. "I rather expected to find

that gentleman here, and now we will go inside for an interview with

him." So saying, he tried to open the door, but found it fastened. In

spite of its splintered condition, it was secured so firmly that it

took them several minutes to force it open. When this was

accomplished, and an entrance was effected, the four gazed blankly

about them and at each other. The large room was empty. So were the

two smaller ones beyond, while an open window in the last showed the

manner in which Messrs. Plater and Grimshaw had effected their escape.

"It's too bad," said Billy Brackett; "for having had several

interesting interviews with those gentlemen, I should have been glad of

another. I think Winn would have been pleased to meet his namesake

too."

"Indeed I should," replied the boy. "I'd like to collect rent for the

use of my signature, and find out where he learned to copy it so

perfectly."

"But I don't understand all this at all," said Glen Elting. "If this

raft isn't theirs, why did they want it badly enough to pay three

hundred dollars reward for its recovery?"

"Whom did they pay it to?" asked Billy Brackett.

"A hundred to the City Marshal, and a hundred each to Binney and me.

We didn't want to take it, but they insisted, and said they should feel

hurt if we refused. So, of course, rather than hurt their feelings--

But really, Billy, they are most gentlemanly fellows, and I think

behaved very handsomely."

"Will you let me see the hundred dollars they gave you?" asked the

young engineer.

"Certainly," replied Glen, with an air of surprise, and adding, rather

stiffly, "though I didn't think, Billy, that _you_ would require proof

of my truthfulness."

"I don't, my dear boy, I don't!" exclaimed Billy Brackett. "I would

believe your unsupported word quicker than the sworn statement of most

men. I want to look at that money for a very different purpose."

So a roll of brand-new bills was handed to him, and he examined them

one by one with the utmost care.

"There are two hundred dollars here," he said at length. "Is this

Binney's share of the reward as well as your own?"

"No. I had a hundred-dollar bill, and Mr. Caspar seeing it, asked if I

would mind taking small bills for it, as he wanted one of that amount

to send off by mail; so, of course, I let him have it."

"Oh, my children! my children!" murmured Billy Brackett, "why will you

persist in attempting to travel through this wicked world without a

guardian? Of all the scrapes from which I have been called to rescue

you, this might have proved the most serious."

"I don't see how," said both Glen and Binney.

Winn knew, and he smiled a little self-complacent smile as he

reflected, "This is a little worse than any mess I ever got into."

"You would have seen quickly enough if you had tried to spend this

money," said Billy Brackett, "for you would undoubtedly have been

arrested on the charge of counterfeiting. Those same fellows put Winn

here in that fix a short time since, besides getting away with a

thousand dollars' worth of wheat that he had in charge, and now they

have come very near serving you the same trick."

Here Winn's smile faded away rather suddenly, while Glen exclaimed,

"Do you mean to say that these bills are counterfeit?"

"I do," replied Billy Brackett; "and if you doubt it, take them to the

first bank you come across and ask the cashier."

"But the City Marshal took some just like them," argued Glen, catching

at the only straw of hope in sight.

"So much the worse for the City Marshal, and I for one shall let him

suffer the consequences. He had no business to accept a reward for

performing a simple act of duty, in the first place; and in the second,

the readiness with which he delivered this raft to the first claimants

who came along makes it look very much as though he could be bribed."

"Well," said Glen, in a despairing tone, "if what you say is true, and

I know it must be, we are in a fix. That hundred dollars was to pay

our expenses to New Orleans; now I don't know how we shall get there."

"New Orleans! Are you bound for New Orleans?"

"Yes, and that's how we happened to be here, and to find this raft.

You see, my father, General Elting, you know, is going to Central

America to make a survey for the Nicaragua Canal, and Binney and I are

to go with him. The party is to sail from New Orleans some time in

January, but he had to go to New York first. As there were a lot of

instruments and heavy things to be sent to New Orleans, he thought it

best to ship them by boat; and as we wanted to take the river trip, he

let us come in charge of them. We knew we should have to transfer from

the Ohio River boat at this point, but we didn't know until we got here

that we must wait three days for the New Orleans packet. As there

wasn't anything else to do, we have put in the time hunting and

fishing, and last evening we ran across this abandoned raft about a

mile up the Mississippi. We had a time getting it in here, I can tell

you. When we did, and reported it to the City Marshal, he showed us a

telegram from a Mr. Winn Caspar, asking him to look out for just such a

raft. We knew this must be the one, for we had found this book lying

on the table, with the name 'Winn Caspar' written all over the

fly-leaf, as though some one had been practising the signature. Sure

enough, a man who said his name was 'Winn Caspar' turned up this

morning, bringing a friend with him. They told a straight enough story

of how their raft had been stolen near St. Louis, and described it

perfectly. They even described the interior of this 'shanty' and

everything in it, including this identical book, as though they had

lived here all their lives. So, of course, both the Marshal and we

thought it was all right; and I don't see even now, if this is your

raft, how those fellows knew all about it as they did. The only thing

they slipped up on was the broken door, and they owned they couldn't

account for that. It seems as if some one must have boarded the raft

before we did and broken into the 'shanty.' The men said there wasn't

anything missing, though. Perhaps you can tell us what has been

stolen."

"No," replied Billy Brackett, "I can't tell that, but I can tell who

broke in that door. I can also relate a tale of adventure and

misadventure in connection with this raft that would excite the envy of

any member of the Second Division, including even the Baldheads, and

you, who were the most reckless young scapegrace of the lot."

Whereupon the young engineer told these interested listeners the whole

history of the _Venture_ from the time the raft was put together down

to the present moment. In it he included the _Whatnot_, Cap'n Cod,

Sabella, Solon, Reward, and Don Blossom, Sheriff Riley, the

"river-traders," Clod, Aunt Viney, and, above all, Bim, who barked

loudly, and rushed wildly about the room at this honorable mention of

his name.

When the story was finished, Glen Elting heaved a deep sigh, and said

to Winn, "Well, you have had a good time. I thought we had about the

best times any fellows could have when we crossed the plains with Billy

Brackett last year, but it seems to me that you are having just about

as much fun right here on this muddy old river as we had out there. I

only wish we had a raft." Then turning to Billy Brackett, he asked,

"What are you going to do next?"

"I don't know," was the reply. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Then lend me your ears. You want to get to New Orleans, and so do we."

"Do we?" interrupted Winn, in surprise, looking up from the book of

travels on the title-page of which his name was written so many times,

and which was the very one he had been reading the last evening he had

spent on this raft.

"You do!" exclaimed both Glen and Binney.

"Certainly," was the calm reply. "It is the only market for timber

rafts that I know of south of St. Louis, and as we can't go back, we

are bound to go ahead. So, as I was saying when rudely interrupted,

both you and we want to go to New Orleans. You have no money--real

money, I mean--with which to get there, and we need at least two extra

pair of hands to help us get this raft there. So why not ship your

stuff on board here, and help us navigate this craft to our common

destination?"

"Do you truly mean it, Billy Brackett?"

"I truly mean it. And if you are willing to go as raftmates with us--"

"Are we willing? Well, I should smile! Are we willing? Why, Billy

Brackett, we'd rather go to New Orleans as raftmates with you and Winn

Caspar than to do anything else in the whole world just at present.

Eh, 'Grip'?"

"Well, rather!" answered Binney Gibbs.

Raftmates: A Story of the Great River · 第 31 / 40 章