Part 11 (1/2)

They had several extra blankets aboard, the property of Uncle Felix. Two of these Frank fetched ash.o.r.e, and laid with his own hands, making as comfortable a bed as anybody might want.

”Nothing will come around, as long as the fire burns; and here's plenty of wood to keep it going, if you happen to wake up any time in the night. Besides, we keep watch aboard the boat, and any uninvited guest is apt to be met with a shot. I hope you don't walk in your sleep, Mr.

Snow?”

Frank said this for a purpose. The old man started, and looked at him queerly; after which he hastened to say:

”I never knew of myself doing such a thing in my life. But please don't bother about me more than you can help. You see, I'm used to being alone; and I've done a fair amount of camping in my day, too.”

Frank had already guessed that from certain little signs. For instance, the other had arranged his blankets so that the night wind would strike his feet rather than his head; and also that the fire would be some little distance from his lower extremities; for an experienced camper-out, especially when it is cold, will make sure to keep his feet warm, first of all.

And so, finally, they left him there, rolled up snugly in his blankets.

The night pa.s.sed quietly enough. With the cabin door fast secured, of course the boys knew that no one could find entrance; and though they may have aroused once or twice all around through the night, no one heard a suspicious sound.

At dawn the boys were early in the river. Frank, however, did not think he cared to take his customary dip; and Jerry winked an eye at him, as much as to say he understood why. Truth to tell, Frank was determined not to leave any opening for the stranger to slip aboard, if he wanted to do so. Then again, he felt ashamed of suspecting Luther Snow, who seemed loath to part with his new-found friends.

They gave him a good breakfast, and Frank took up a collection of several dollars from the boys, which sum he pressed into the hand of the old man as they prepared to leave him.

Perhaps there was a tear in Luther Snow's eye; certainly there was a wistful look on his face as the houseboat started away from the sh.o.r.e, leaving him waving his hand after them from the bank.

”That money ought to take him part of the way on his journey,” remarked Jerry, as the intervening trees quite hid their late guest from them.

”And then he can work in some big city,” said Will. ”A carpenter gets good wages every place; and it won't take him long to save enough to go on further. Why, in a month he ought to be down to New Orleans, long before we expect to show up.”

”He certainly did want to go along with us all right, Frank,” Bluff observed. ”Why, every time he looked at our old junk he'd shake his head, and heave a sigh. Reckon he just thought what a fine snap it'd be if he could get aboard, and be carried all the way down to the place he wants to reach, without spending a red cent for grub, or traveling expenses.”

”And only for what Uncle Felix said in his letter,” spoke up Jerry, ”I'd voted to let the old fellow go along with us. But we did him some good, anyway. That cash ought to carry him a hundred or two miles along the river on a boat, deck pa.s.sage.”

”If he doesn't have the hard luck to lose that, too,” remarked Frank, drily. ”Some people have a weakness that way, you know, boys.”

There was some touch of mystery in his way of saying this, and the others looked at him, as though hoping Frank would ”open up and explain,” as Bluff put it; but he changed the subject, and left them wondering.

”Don't suppose there's a chance in a hundred that we'll ever hear anything from Luther Snow again?” Will observed, later on. ”He said he would write to us at New Orleans, and you gave him your uncle's address, which he jotted down in his little notebook,” Frank remarked; but he somehow failed to mention the fact that he had observed with surprise how strange it was to see a man who followed the trade of carpenter happen to possess such a delicate little volume in his pocket, when one would rather expect to see a well-thumbed five-cent book under the circ.u.mstances.

The day became rather sultry, and Frank remarked, after they had eaten a little cold lunch, that he would not be much surprised if they ran into a storm before a great while.

”Just what I was thinking,” Will added. ”Do you know, I'm getting to be quite an old salt by now, and can just feel the weather in my bones. And for some time I've had an aching toe; that means rain, mark that, fellows.”

”I saw you taking a snapshot of our friend, Luther, on the sly this morning,” remarked Frank. ”When you develop that, print me a copy, Will.

You know I always like to study faces, and somehow his seemed to me to be a particularly strong one.”

”All the same he hasn't made a success of his life, if what he told us is true,” Jerry put in, ”for it was a hard luck story all through.”

”Frank's seen something he wants to examine closer,” Bluff suggested later on; ”for he dived into the cabin, in a hurry; and here he comes out again with the field gla.s.ses.”

They all watched Frank adjust the binoculars to his range of vision, and sweep a half circuit around the river, finally focussing upon some object up-stream that must have caught his attention.

”I thought so,” he remarked presently; ”here, take a look, Bluff, and say what you see.”