Raftmates: A Story of the Great River

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER XVI.

  BIM MAKES AN ENEMY.

  Billy Brackett's satisfaction at his escape from a situation thatpromised to cause him a vexatious delay was tinged with a new anxietyconcerning Winn. As he pulled swiftly across the river, so as to belost to view from the island as quickly as possible, he expressed hisfeelings aloud to Bim:

  "What new scrape can that young rascal have got into now--eh, old dog?It was bad enough to start down the river alone on a big raft withouteven bidding his folks good-bye; but now he seems to have lost the raftsomewhere, to have landed on that island, to have been arrested forsomething, to have escaped, and to have run off with the Sheriff'sboat. It looks as though he had the same happy faculty for gettinginto scrapes that distinguished my young friend Glen Eddy. Somehow Ihave a fellow-feeling for such boys. It is strange, too, for I can'tremember ever getting into any scrapes myself. We must put a stop toit, though, in Winn's case. It will never do for him to be cavortingabout in this scandalous manner, so long as we are responsible for hisdecent behavior and safe return. We shall surely find him, andprobably the raft also, at Dubuque. Then we will take our nephew inhand, and by simple force of example instruct him in that dignity ofdeportment that steers clear of scrapes. Eh, Bimsey?"

  At this Bim sprang from his seat, and made such a violent effort tolick his master's face that the latter was very nearly tumbled overbackward. By the time order was restored, daylight was beginning toappear, and the young man saw that he was far enough below the islandfor it to be safe to again cross the river and head for Dubuque. Hereached this place soon after sunrise, or about an hour after Winnpassed it, and a few minutes after the departure of the _Whatnot_.

  A hasty inspection of the various craft lining the water-front of thecity convinced him that the raft was not among them. He found severalpersons who knew Sheriff Riley's skiff, but none of them had seen itthat morning. This, however, did not discourage the young engineer,for a skiff is so much smaller than a raft as to be easily overlooked.He would make a more thorough search after visiting the hotel, where hehoped Winn might also have gone for breakfast.

  On his way he stopped at the telegraph office, and sent the followingdespatch to both Mrs. Caspar and to the Major at Madison:

  "Have heard of Winn, and am on his track. The boy is all right.----W.B."

  "That is true so far as it goes," soliloquized Billy Brackett, "andwill relieve their present anxiety. By to-morrow, or perhaps within afew minutes, I shall certainly have something more definite to wire."

  At the hotel he was greatly disappointed to find no trace of themissing lad, and after eating a hearty breakfast he made a thoroughsearch of the water-front, though of course without avail. He hadintended dropping a hint here and there of the predicament in which hehad left Sheriff Riley and his followers, but on second thoughtsconcluded to let them work out their own plan of escape from theisland, rather than run the risk of further delay.

  By noon he was ready to depart from Dubuque, satisfied that there wasno information to be gained in that place concerning either Winn or theraft. Although he was not discouraged, he was puzzled, and was evenbeginning to feel anxious at the strange aspect this affair of the lost_Venture_ was assuming.

  Until sunset he rowed steadily and swiftly downstream, hailing theferrymen as he passed, and stopping at the settlements on both sides ofthe river to make inquiries. He also hailed passing boats, and boardedseveral rafts that he discovered tied to the western bank, but all invain. He failed to learn anything about Winn, and heard that but oneraft had passed down the river the day before. It was described ashaving a single "shanty," a tent, and a crew of three men. As that wasnot the kind of a raft he was looking for, this information only addedto the young man's perplexity. It never occurred to him that the raftmight have been stolen and disguised. So, as he was certain he had notpassed it, there was but one solution to the problem. The _Venture_must have been wrecked and gone to pieces during the storm of thatfirst night, and Winn must have escaped to the island.

  Even with this explanation the mystery of Winn's second disappearanceremained as great as ever, and by the time Billy Brackett hailed the_Whatnot_, as has already been noted, he was as thoroughly bewilderedas ever in his life. Nor could he decide on any plan of action thatseemed in the least satisfactory. He knew there was a town a mile orso below where the _Whatnot_ lay, and there he had determined to spendthe night. But for his desire to reach this place before darknessshould wholly shut in, he would have boarded the _Whatnot_ merely togratify the curiosity excited by her strange appearance. As it was, hefelt that he had no time to spare, and so hastened on.

  It was quite dark as he approached the lights marking the town he wasseeking; but as he drew near he discovered what appeared like a part ofthe levee slowly moving out from shore. Above it rose dimly a whiteobject that he had taken for a house, and still above this shown alantern. In a moment he saw that it was a raft resuming its voyagedown the river, and he determined to make an inquiry from its crewbefore landing.

  Pulling his skiff alongside, the young man sprang aboard. As he did sohe noticed that the white object was a tent, and that there was asingle "shanty" amidship. It was the very raft that had been describedto him as being the only one to pass down the river the day before.These details so occupied his attention that he did not notice a skiffmade fast to the side of the raft just forward of where he tied hisown. Not seeing it, he did not, of course, ask any questionsconcerning it. If he had, he might have learned that the raftsmen hadjust picked it up, floating, empty and ownerless, down the river.There had been no oars in it, but they had rowed it to the raft with anextra pair from their own skiff. In their preparations for departurethey had not yet found time to examine it, and knew nothing of itscontents.

  As Billy Brackett walked towards the "shanty," there was a suddencommotion at its entrance. A gruff voice exclaimed,

  "Get out of here, you cur!"

  This command was evidently accompanied by a savage kick, which wasimmediately followed by a yell and a heavy fall as Bim's white teethsank deep in the calf of one of Mr. Plater's legs.

  The dog, tired of his long confinement in the skiff, had eagerly leapedaboard the raft, and with friendly inquisitiveness had poked his noseinto the open doorway of the "shanty" just as Plater was emerging fromit.

  Bim's master realized in a moment what had happened, and sprang to thescene just as two other figures came running in the same direction fromthe forward end of the raft.

  Mr. Plater, though on his back, had nearly succeeded in drawing apistol from his hip pocket. In a few seconds more poor Bim's earthlycareer would have been ended, but his owner's movements were quickenough to save him, and before the pistol could be drawn, BillyBrackett had seized the dog's collar.

  "Let go, sir!" he ordered, sternly, and Bim instantly obeyed thecommand. Then realizing that discretion is the better part of valorwhen the odds are three to one, the young engineer, with the dog in hisarms, ran to the side of the raft, sprang into the skiff, and shovedoff. He was followed by a storm of threats and angry imprecations, atwhich he only smiled, as he took to his oars and pulled through thefriendly darkness towards the landing from which the raft had alreadydrifted quite a distance.

  Making his way to the wharf-boat, and giving the watchman a quarter tolook out for his skiff until morning, Billy Brackett, weary anddisheartened, sought such accommodation as the only hotel of the littletown afforded. All night he tossed sleeplessly on his uncomfortablebed, striving in vain to unravel the mystery in which the fate of hisnephew and of Major Caspar's raft had become enshrouded.

  In the morning he strolled undecidedly down to the wharf-boat, and,missing his skiff, asked the watchman, who was just going off duty,what he had done with it.

  "Why, there it is, sir, just where you left it," answered the man, in asurprised tone, pointing to a skiff that Billy Brackett was certain hehad never seen before.

  "That is not my boat," he said.<
br />
  "It is the one you came in last night," answered the watchman. "Andhere is the coat you left in it. I took the liberty of bringing it inout of the dew."

  The young engineer looked at the coat the man was holding towards him,and shook his head.

  "That is not mine, either," he said.

  "Whose is it, then?"

  "I'm sure I don't know. You'd better look in the pockets. They maycontain some clew."

  Acting upon this suggestion the watchman thrust his hand into abreast-pocket of the coat and drew forth a note-book. He opened it.

  "Here's something writ in it," he said; "but as I'm not quick at makingout strange writing, maybe you'll read it, sir."

  Taking the book from the man's hand, and glancing carelessly at itstitle-page, Billy Brackett uttered a cry of amazement. There, writtenin a clear boyish hand, was the inscription:

  "Winn Caspar. His Book."

  "Billy Brackett uttered a cry of amazement."]