by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER VII.
A GANG OF "RIVER-TRADERS."
For a whole minute Winn sat silent, while from the opposite side of thetable Mr. Gilder regarded his perplexed countenance with an expressionthat was not altogether pleasant. Winn, suddenly looking up from hishard thinking, was a bit startled by it; but as it instantly meltedinto one of smiling sympathy, his confidence in the man remainedunbroken. Had he seen Mr. Gilder two hours earlier, instead of one,his opinion of the individual who had just prepared such a capitalbreakfast, expressed so great friendliness, and now showed him soplainly the unpleasant predicament into which he had fallen, would havebeen decidedly different.
At that time Mr. Gilder was kneeling beside an opening in the floor ofa log-hut, in the centre of the island, and lifting from it a tray ofodd-looking but beautifully made tools. The hut was small and rudelyconstructed. It was surrounded by a dense forest growth, and stood ina tiny clearing from which no road or trail could be seen to lead. Allits appointments were of the most primitive description, and yet asingle glance into its interior would have impressed one with thebelief that its occupants were millionaires. The effect of piles andstacks of greenbacks, enough to form the capital of a city bank or fillthe vaults of a sub-treasury, amid such surroundings, would certainlyhave startled even those accustomed to the handling of great wealth.The bills, all of which were new and crisp, were done up in neatpackages, each of which was marked with the number of hundreds orthousands of dollars it contained. In one corner of the room stood asmall printing-press of exquisite make. Besides this press, awork-bench, table, and several rude stools, the single room of the hutcontained only the piles of greenbacks.
A man sat beside the table counting and sorting a large number ofbills, the worn appearance of which showed them to have been in activecirculation for some time. This man was small, and had a weazened facedevoid of hair except for a pair of bushy, iron-gray eyebrows, beneathwhich his eyes gleamed as cunningly bright as those of a fox. Heanswered to the name of Grimshaw; and as he counted bills with thedeftness and rapidity of a bank cashier, he also paid a certain amountof attention to the remarks of his companion, who was talking earnestly.
"I tell you what it is, Grim," the other was saying, as he bent overthe secret opening in the floor, "it's high time we were moving. Thisis a first-class location, and we've done well here; but you know aswell as I do that our business requires a pretty frequent change ofscene, and I'm afraid we've stayed here too long already. One of thosemill fellows said only yesterday that we must have collected a powerfullot of stuff by this time, and asked if we weren't about ready toinvite him up to inspect and bid on it. I told him we were thinking ofputting it into a raft and taking it down-river. Never had such anidea, you know, but the notion just popped into my head, and I'm notsure now but what it's as good a one as we'll strike. What do youthink?"
"It'll take a heap of hard work, and more time than I for one want tospare, to build a raft large enough for our purpose," answeredGrimshaw. "Still, I don't know as the idea is wholly bad."
"It would take time, that's a fact," answered Mr. Gilder, lifting histray of tools to the table and proceeding to polish some of them with abit of buckskin. "And it looks as though time was going to be anobject with us shortly. That last letter from Wiley showed that theChicago folks were beginning to sniff pretty suspiciously in thisdirection. I've been asked some awkward questions lately, too. Yes,the more I think of it, the more I am convinced that we ought to begetting out of here as quickly as we can make arrangements. We musttalk it over with Plater, and come to some decision this very day.He's-- Hello! Something's up. Plater was to stay in camp till I gotback."
Again came the peculiar, long-drawn whistle that had arrested theattention of the men, and which denoted the approach of a friend. Mr.Gilder stepped to the door and answered it. Then he looked expectantlytowards a laurel thicket that formed part of the dense undergrowthsurrounding the hut. In a moment the dripping branches were partednear the ground, and a man, emerging from the bushes on his hands andknees, stood up, shook himself like a Newfoundland dog, and advancedtowards the open door. He was a large man with long hair and a bushybeard. He was clad in flannel, jeans, and cowhide boots, and wasevidently of a different class from Mr. Gilder, who appeared to be agentleman, and was dressed as one. "What's up, Plater?" asked thelatter.
"Big raft, three shanties on it, in false channel, saddle-bagged on thereef pretty nigh abreast of camp. Can't see nobody aboard. Reckon shebroke adrift from somewheres while her crew was off on a frolic."
"You don't say so!" cried Mr. Gilder, excitedly. "Perhaps it's thevery thing we are most in need of, sent by a special providence tocrown our labors with success. I'll go down and have a look at her,while you stay here and help Grim pack up the stuff. We might as wellbe prepared for a sudden move, and he'll tell you what we have justbeen talking about."
So Mr. Gilder, donning his rubber coat, a garment that Plater wouldhave scorned to wear, left the clearing through another bushy thicketon the opposite side from that by which his confederate had entered it.An almost undiscernible path led him to the shore of the island thatwas washed by the main channel of the river. Here he struck into aplainly marked trail that followed the water's edge. In this trail Mr.Gilder walked to the southern end of the island, and up its other sideuntil he reached a comfortable camp that bore signs of long occupancy.It stood high on a cut bank, and just below it a rude boom held amiscellaneous assortment of logs, lumber, and odd wreckage, all of itevidently collected from the stray drift of the great river.
From the edge of the bank, a short distance from this camp, the mancommanded a good view of the stranded raft, and for several minutes hestood gazing at it. "There's the very thing to a T, that we want," hesaid to himself. "Not too big for us to handle, and yet large enoughto make it seem an object for us to take it down the river. I can'tsee what they want of three shanties, though; one ought to be enoughfor all the crew she needs. Our first move would be to tear down twoof them, and lengthen the other; that alone would be a sufficientdisguise. We haven't got her yet, though, and she isn't abandonedeither, for there's smoke coming from that middle shanty. I reckon thecook must be aboard, and maybe he'll sell the whole outfit for cash,and so give us a clear title to it." Here Mr. Gilder smiled as thoughthe thought was most amusing. "I'll go off and interview him anyway,and I'd better be about it too, for the river is still rising. Shewon't hang there much longer, and if the fellow found his raft afloatagain before a bargain was made he might not come to terms. In thatcase we should be obliged to take forcible possession, which would berisky. I'm bound to have that raft, though. It is simply a case ofnecessity, and necessity is in the same fix we are, so far as law isconcerned."
While thus thinking, Mr. Gilder had stepped into a light skiff that wasmoored near the boom, and was pulling towards the stranded raft. Hefirst examined its position, and assured himself that very little laborwould be necessary to float it; then he stepped aboard, and very nearlylost his customary self-possession upon the receipt of Winn's warmgreeting. He was on the point of returning it in a manner that wouldhave proved most unpleasant for poor Winn, when he discovered that hissupposed assailant was only a boy, and that the act was unintentional.It took the shrewd man but a few minutes to discover the exact state ofaffairs aboard the raft, and to form a plan for gaining peaceful, ifnot altogether lawful, possession of it. This plan he began to carryout by the false statement of the situation made to Winn at theconclusion of the last chapter. This beginning was not made, however,until he had first gained the lad's confidence by a deed of kindness.
When Winn looked up from his hard thinking he said, "I hate the thoughtof throwing the wheat overboard, even to save the raft. There are twothousand bushels of it, and I know my father expects to get at leastfifty cents a bushel. So it would seem like throwing a thousanddollars into the river. Then, again, I don't see how it will bepossible to land it, and so lighten the ra
ft. It would take me a monthto do it alone with my canoe. Besides, father is sure to set out on ahunt for the raft the moment he finds it is gone, and so is likely tocome along most any time."
"All the greater need for haste," thought Mr. Gilder; but aloud hesaid, "That is very true, but in the mean time your raft will probablybreak up, and your wheat be spilled in the river anyway. Now supposeyou agree to pay me and my partners a hundred dollars to get the wheatashore for you and reload it after the raft floats."
"I haven't a cent of money with me," replied Winn.
"That's bad," said the other, reflectively. "It's awkward to travelwithout money. But I'll tell you what we'll do. I hate to see adecent young fellow like you in such a fix, and I'm willing to take arisk to help him out of it. Suppose I buy your wheat? I told you thatI and my partners were river traders. To be sure, our business ismostly in logs, lumber, and the like; but I don't mind taking anoccasional flyer in wheat, provided they are willing. You say yourfather expects to get fifty cents a bushel for this wheat. Now I'llgive you forty-five cents a bushel for it; that is, if my partnersagree. That will leave five cents a bushel to pay us for landing it,transferring it to some other craft, and getting your raft afloat.What do you say?"
"I wish I could ask father about it," hesitated Winn, to whom, underthe circumstances as he supposed them to exist, the offer seemed verytempting.
"Oh, well," sneered Mr. Gilder, "if you are not man enough now to actupon your own responsibility in such an emergency, you never will be.So the sooner you get home again and tie up to your mother'sapron-string the sooner you'll be where you belong."
The taunt was as well worn as it was cruel, and should have given Winnan insight into the true character of his new acquaintance; but on aboy so proud of his ability to decide for himself, and so ignorant ofthe ways of the world as this one, it was sufficient to produce thedesired effect.
Winn flushed hotly as he answered: "The wheat is my father's, and notmine to sell; but for the sake of saving it as well as the raft, I willlet you have it at that price. I must have the cash, though, beforeyou begin to move it."
"Spoken like the man I took you to be," said Mr. Gilder, heartily."Now we'll go ashore and see my partners. If they agree to thebargain, as no doubt they will, we'll get to work at once, and haveyour raft afloat again in no time."