IN WHICH PHIL HEARS FROM HIS FRIENDS, AND VISITS MR. CLINCH.
The two deck hands, who had worked their passage down on the Daylight,
were relieved from duty as soon as the baggage of the passengers had
been put on shore. They followed Captain Davis to the Fawn, where we
drew from them all the information they had in regard to the Gracewoods.
"Where are the passengers who went with you?" was the first question
which the captain asked, when we started up the levee.
"At Delaware City, sir. The lady was sick, and not quite able to come
down in the Daylight," replied one of the men.
"Sick!" I exclaimed.
"Sick; but not very bad, I believe. She caught a cold coming down the
river," answered the spokesman.
"Where is she?"
"At a house in the town; I don't know whose it is."
"Was the young lady sick?" I inquired, anxiously.
"No; she was first rate."
"But how came you at Delaware City?"
"We couldn't help going there, Captain Davis," replied the spokesman of
the two, who was evidently embarrassed.
"You couldn't help it?" said the captain.
"No, sir; we could not. The current was very swift."
"Explain yourself, man. I didn't suppose I had sent a couple of hands
in the boat with those passengers who couldn't handle a pair of oars."
"I didn't think so, either. We did as well as any men could; the
gentleman will tell you so when you see him."
"Well, what did you do? What was the matter?" demanded the captain,
impatiently.
"There was a line stretched across that cut-off. I suppose the man that
owned the island used it to haul his bateau across by; for it was a
seven-mile current in the place."
"It was all of that," added the other man, by way of fortifying the
statement of his companion.
"Go on," said the captain.
"Well, sir, the boat ran on to that line, and it carried her bow clear
out of water," continued the spokesman. "In fact, the water came
in over the stern, and wet the lady who sat farthest aft. I sprang
forward to trim the boat, for I did not know what the matter was then.
In my hurry I lost my oar overboard. I couldn't help it, for I was
thinking only of saving the ladies from drowning, for both of them were
screaming with fright."
"That's so," said the other man. "They were scared out of their wits."
"When I went to the bow, I couldn't tell what the matter was. I took
the other oar, and sounded with it, to see if we were aground, and then
I felt the rope. It was caught just under the bow, where there was
a break in the iron shoe. I put the end of the oar on the line, and
crowded it down so that the boat could slide over it. But the blade
of the oar was split, and the line was jammed into the crack. The
boat went over, and when I tried to pull in the oar, it was fast. The
current took the boat, and gave me such a jerk that I had to let go, or
go overboard."
"And you left the oar fast to the line?"
"Yes, sir; I couldn't help it."
"Perhaps you couldn't; but go on."
"We went on in spite of ourselves. The current carried the boat through
the cut-off into the river. I tried to pull up one of the thwarts,
to use as a paddle, but we couldn't start them. It was very dark and
foggy, as you know, captain, and we couldn't see where we were. We
watched our chances as well as we could, and tried to get hold of
something."
"Why didn't you sing out?"
"That's what we did. But the current carried us over the other side of
the river from Leavenworth, and I suppose no one heard us; at any rate
no one came to help us. The poor lady who had got wet in the cut-off
was shivering with cold, and we tried everything we could think of to
stop the boat; but still we kept going down stream, whirling round now
and then."
"Well, how did you stop her at last?" demanded the captain, finding
that the spokesman was disposed to be rather diffuse in his narrative.
"After we had been going about two hours--Wasn't it two hours, Dick?"
"It wasn't less than that."
"No matter how long it was. Go on," interposed the captain, who did not
care to listen to a discussion on this point.
"Well, sir, we almost run into a man who was crossing the river in a
bateau, with a lot of groceries. We shouted to him, and he run his boat
alongside of us. We made fast to him, and he pulled us to the shore.
He told us we were on the other side of the river from Delaware City.
Mr. Gracewood made a trade with him to take us over to that place,
and I helped him row over, towing the boat astern of us. I reckon the
gentleman paid him well for his trouble."
"Where did they go then?" asked the captain.
"They went to a house in the town. The lady was all used up, and had
chills and fever that night; but they thought she was better in the
morning. They sent up to Leavenworth for a doctor."
"Then she was very sick," I added.
"No; the doctor didn't say so. He thought she would be out in a week."
"Where did you go then?" asked the captain.
"We found a place to sleep on the levee. Mr. Gracewood gave us five
dollars apiece, and--"
"And you got drunk," suggested the captain.
"No, sir; we did not. I won't say we didn't take something, for we were
cold."
"Why didn't you go up to Leavenworth, where you knew the boat would be
in the morning?"
"We meant to do that in the morning, as soon as it was daylight; but
Dick was afraid the Fawn might get there and start down the river
before we could tramp up to the place. Besides, we wanted to know how
the lady was, so as to let you know; and we didn't like to go to the
house so early in the morning," added the spokesman, glancing at his
companion.
"I thought it was safer to wait on the levee till the Fawn came down,"
said Dick. "We supposed, of course, she would stop there."
"I was of the same mind myself," continued the spokesman. "We waited
till most night, when the Daylight made a landing; and then we saw the
Fawn coming; but she stood off from the levee, and went down the river
at full speed. I hailed her as loud as I could, but she took no notice
of me. The captain of the Daylight let us work our passage down."
"Where is the boat?"
"On board the Daylight."
"How was Mrs. Gracewood when you left Delaware City?" I inquired.
"She was too sick to leave in the Daylight; but the doctor thought she
might be able to take a boat in two or three days," replied Dick.
"Now go and get the boat," added the captain.
"They may not come for a week," said I, as they departed.
"Perhaps not; but you can't tell much about it from the story of these
men."
"Don't you think they told the truth?"
"In the main, they did; but in my opinion they got drunk. If not, they
would have returned to Leavenworth. Probably they have stretched the
story a little. At any rate, you can't tell how sick the lady is from
anything they said."
"She got wet in the boat, and took cold, I suppose."
"I suppose so."
The news from my friends was not very cheering, but it was a relief to
be assured that no calamity had overtaken them. I would have gone to
them at once if I had had the money to pay my passage; and I said as
much to Captain Davis.
"That would be a useless step, Phil," he replied. "If the lady is sick,
you can do them no good. It would be a waste of money for you to do so."
"If I had it, I should be willing to waste it in that way," I added.
"Then it is fortunate that you haven't it, Phil. What do you mean to do
here in St. Louis? Does Mr. Gracewood intend to support you?"
"I don't intend to be supported by any one," I answered, perhaps with a
little indignation; "I mean to support myself."
"What do you intend to do?"
"I am going to learn the carpenter's trade, if I can find a place."
"All right, Phil. That's a sensible idea. I didn't know but you
expected to be a gentleman, as most of the boys do who come from the
country," said the captain. "Come with me, my boy, and we will see
about a place."
"That's just what I want, captain--a chance to learn the carpenter's
trade. I know something about it now."
I followed the captain on shore, and we went to a quiet street in one
of the humbler sections of the city, where he rang the bell at a house.
"Is Mr. Clinch at home?" asked Captain Davis of the woman who answered
the summons.
"Yes, sir; he has just come in from his work. Won't you walk in?"
We entered the house, and were shown to a very plainly furnished
parlor, where Mr. Clinch soon appeared. He was clothed in coarse
garments, but he had a very intelligent countenance, and I liked the
looks of him.
"O, Captain Davis," exclaimed the carpenter, grasping the hand of my
companion, "I am glad to see you."
"It always does me good to take your honest hand, Clinch. This young
man is Phil Farringford, and he comes from the upper Missouri. He is a
smart boy, and wants to learn your trade."
Mr. Clinch took me by the hand, and gave me a cordial greeting.
"I don't take any apprentices, now," he added. "I find it don't pay. As
soon as we get a boy so that he can drive a nail without pounding his
fingers, he wants a man's wages, or runs away as soon as he is worth
anything to me."
"If I make a trade, sir, I shall stick to it," I ventured to say.
"You look like an honest young man, but I can't take apprentices, as we
used to in former years."
"Phil knows something about the business now," interposed the captain.
"He is handy with tools, and is as tough as an oak knot. He knows what
hard work is, and has just come out of the woods."
"But I can't take a boy into my family," continued Mr. Clinch; "I
haven't room, and it makes the work too hard for my wife."
"He might board somewhere else," said the captain.
"That indeed. I like the looks of the boy."
"If you can do anything for him, I shall regard it as a favor to me,"
added my friend.
"I should be very glad to serve you, Captain Davis. I want more help,
but a boy isn't of much use. How old are you, Phil?"
"Thirteen, sir."
"You look older. What can you do?"
I told him what I could do; that I could handle a saw, axe, hammer, and
auger; that I had built a bateau, made boxes, and done similar work.
He seemed to be very sceptical, but finally agreed to give me three
dollars a week, which he thought would board and clothe me, if, upon
trial, I proved to be worth that. He told me where he was at work, and
wished me to be on hand the next morning.