by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XXVII.
IS THIS OUR RAFT OR NOT?
So anxious was Winn Caspar for the recovery of the raft lost throughhis carelessness and over-confidence in his own ability that, havingfound it again, he could not bear to lose sight of it, even though hehad no idea of how he might regain its possession. Therefore, as hestepped ashore after his rebuff by Grimshaw, he only went so far up thetrail through the timber as to be concealed from the man's view. Thenhe darted into the undergrowth and crept back to the river-bank. Hereached it just in time to see Grimshaw lock the door of the "shanty,"leave the raft, and start up the trail that he himself had taken but aminute before.
How long would the man be gone? Was there any one left on the raft?These were the questions that came into the boy's mind. There was nosign of life on the _Venture_, and by running a short distance up thetrail Winn became convinced that the man had gone at least as far asthe edge of the timber. Would he ever again have so good a chance ofrecovering his father's property? Besides, what a fine thing it wouldbe for him to recapture the raft alone, without the aid of BillyBracket! or any one else. This latter thought decided the boy, andcaused him to hastily retrace his steps.
Never had Winn been so excited! As he sprang aboard the raft and triedto cast off its fastenings he momentarily expected to hear a shout fromthe bank or a gruff demand from the interior of the "shanty" as to whathe was about. Perhaps the summons would take the form of apistol-shot, for men who would steal a raft and destroy a thousanddollars' worth of wheat would not be likely to hesitate at anything.At this last thought Winn seemed to feel the deadly sting of a bullet,and in his nervousness only made more intricate the knot he was tryingto untie. At length he whipped out his jack-knife and cut the rope.
Now to head the raft out into the stream. He picked up a longset-pole, thrust one end into the bank, braced himself, and began topush. Oh, how he strained and panted! How the veins stood out on hisforehead! Still the great mass of timber seemed immovable. Again andagain he tried, and at length felt a slight yield. A more desperateeffort than before, and he could take a step; then another, andanother, until he had walked half the length of the pole. The head ofthe raft was swinging off, at first so slowly that the motion wasalmost imperceptible, then faster, until finally it felt the full forceof the current. Now for one more effort! If he could only work herout from the bank and into the friendly shelter of the fog withoutdiscovery, he would feel safe even from pistol-shots. For two minutesWinn labored as never before in all his life. But the minutes seemedhours, and he felt that he might as well attempt to push away the bankitself as the mass of timber on which he stood. Suddenly he heard thatwhich he expected and dreaded, a shout, so loud that it seemed to beuttered on the raft. The set-polo fell from his nerveless grasp as helooked up, fully expecting to gaze into the black muzzle of a pistol.
At first he saw--nothing. He must be turned around. No; the view ofthe opposite direction was equally blank. Then, for an instant, hecaught a glimpse of shadowy tree-tops just dissolving into formlessmist. The blessed fog had folded its protecting arms about him, and hewas safe.
Hurrah! he was once more in undisputed possession of the raft, and oncemore floating on it down the great river.
Wildly happy, the exhausted boy flung himself down on the wet planks,and yielded to pleasant reflections. It was only twenty miles to St.Louis. The current was carrying him at the rate of five miles an hour,so that he ought to reach the city soon after noon. There he wouldhail some steamboat or tug, and get it to tow his raft to a safemooring-place. Then he would telegraph to both his father and hisUncle Billy. After that he would engage some stout man to help guardthe raft until his friends arrived. Or perhaps he would buy a revolverand guard it himself, and when his father and Uncle Billy came along,he would challenge them before allowing them to step on board. Yes,that would be the scheme, and the boy became very proud of himself ashe thought of the praises in store for him.
At length Winn rose from his moist resting-place, and began to examinehis surroundings. How strange the raft did look, to be sure. Hewouldn't have believed its appearance could have been so altered, andnow wondered that he had ever recognized it. In fact, the only featurethat seemed at all familiar, as he studied it, was the forward gableend of the "shanty." But somehow the building itself appeared muchlonger than when he last saw it. Still, there was that interior. Hehad seen the partition, with its door leading into his own little room,and he never heard of a raft "shanty" with a partition in it until thisone was built. He must have another look at that interior.
The locked door baffled him. It was of such solid construction, andits lock was so well made, that it resisted all his efforts to forceit. The windows were provided with heavy wooden shutters that werefastened on the inside. For an hour Winn busied himself with vainefforts to effect an entrance. At the end of that time he wasdiscouraged. He was also uneasy. He had heard steamboats pass him,but could see nothing of them on account of the fog. The last onepassed very close. The next might run him down. How he wished theraft were safely tied to some bank or levee. It was awful to be thusblindly drifting, right in the track of steamboats. The fog hung solow over the water that their pilots were lifted well above it, andcould see the landmarks by which they were guided. They could also seeother steamboats; but such things as scows and rafts had no business tobe moving at such a time. They were supposed to be snugly tied up, andconsequently no pilot would be on the lookout for them. Winn knew thisas well as any one, and the knowledge did not tend to reassure him.
If he only had some one with him to help work the heavy sweeps by whichthe raft's course might be directed, or even to advise him what to do.It was dreadful to be alone. What a foolish thing he had done, afterall, in attempting to manage this affair by himself. If he had onlygone back for Billy Brackett. But his boyish pride in his own abilityhad again overcome his judgment, and now he must abide by theconsequences.
"I only hope, if I do get run down and killed, they will find out who Iam," thought the poor boy. "It would be horrid to disappear and havefolks say I was a coward, who had run away for fear father would beangry with me for losing his raft. As if _my_ father would ever doanything to make me afraid of him! And mother! How badly she wouldfeel if I should disappear without ever giving her the comfort ofknowing I was dead. There is Elta, too, and the very last time I sawher I was ugly to her. Oh dear! I wish--well, I wish, for one thing,that I could get inside that 'shanty,' and out of this miserabledrizzle. I wonder if I can't pick the lock?"
Full of this new idea, Winn obtained a bit of stiff wire from thehandle of a lantern that stood outside the "shanty." This he bent aswell as he could into the rude form of a key, and thus equipped, heworked patiently at the lock for another hour. At length he threw awaythe useless implement in disgust.
"I was never cut out for a burglar, that's certain!" he exclaimed."There's one thing I can do, though, and I will, too. I can smash downthe door, and get inside that way."
An axe lay beside a pile of wood near the forward end of the raft; andarmed with this, the boy began to rain vigorous blows upon the stoutdoor. Before these it quickly yielded, and he thus gained the interior.
Once inside, he gazed about him blankly. Nothing looked familiar;nothing was as he had expected to find it. There was the partition,with a door in it, to be sure, and there was the small room beyond themain one; but there was also another partition, and another door beyondthis. There had been but two rooms in the _Venture's_ "shanty," whilehere were three. Then again the "shanty" that he had helped to buildwas only boarded up on the outside, while the interior had been leftunceiled, with the frame exposed. The interior on which he now gazedwas wholly ceiled, so as to make the walls of double thickness, andconceal every bit of the framing.
The perplexed boy noticed these details at a glance; and as he stoodstaring blankly about him, the uncomfortable suspicion began to forceitself into his mind that perh
aps this was not the _Venture_ after all.
"If I have run off with some one else's raft, I declare I shall justwant to disappear!" he exclaimed to himself. "I do believe I shall betoo ashamed ever to go home again. Oh dear! There is anothersteamboat."
The notes of a deep-voiced whistle, evidently near at hand, caused theboy to hasten outside. He could see a huge confused mass dimly loomingout of the fog ahead, and a little to one side of him. At the samemoment he heard the wild jangling of bells, the terrified shoutings,and then the awful crash that denoted a collision. A big up-boundsteamboat had run down and sunk a smaller boat of some kind. That muchhe could see, and he was filled with horror at the nearness andmagnitude of the disaster.
He had heard agonized screams, and knew that lives had been sacrificed.One shrill cry that came to his ears with startling distinctnesssounded as though uttered by a woman or a girl, and Winn shuddered atthe thought of her fate.
The raft was drifting rapidly away from the scene of the catastrophe,and the dimly discerned steamboat was just disappearing from his view,when the boy thought he heard a gurgling cry from the water. Couldsome bold swimmer have escaped? He bent his head to the water's edgeand listened. Again he heard the cry. And this time it seemed nearer.Some human being was struggling in the river. Now, if ever, was thetime for his promptest action, and with Winn thought and action wenthand in hand.
In another moment he was in the skiff belonging to the raft, andpulling with all the strength of his stout young arms in the directionof the cries.