CHAPTER VII.
OUT ON THE RIVER.
For over half an hour longer Dick tramped the streets of the citylooking for some trace of his father.
Presently he found himself down by the docks along the muddy river. Thestream was much swollen, and the few boats tied up were bumping freelyagainst the shore as the current swung them in.
"I wonder if father could have come down here?" he mused. "He had agreat fondness for the water when he got those strange spells."
Slowly and with eyes wide open he moved down the river shore, ready toseize upon any evidence which might present itself.
Suddenly he uttered a cry and leaped down into a rowboat lying before,him.
"Father's hat! I'd know it among a thousand!"
Dick was right. There on the stern seat of the craft rested thehead-covering Mortimer Arbuckle had worn ever since he had left NewYork.
The tears stood in the youth's eyes as he picked up the hat andinspected it. One side of the brim was covered with dirt, and it wasstill soaked from the rain.
"Poor father! Is it possible he fell overboard?"
Dick said "fell overboard," but he thought something else. He knew aswell as anybody that his father did strange things while under theinfluence of the melancholy spells which at times haunted him.
He looked up and down the stream. Nothing was in sight but the boats andhere and there a mass of driftwood.
He sat down on the seat and covered his face with his hands.
"Say, boy, wot yer doin' in my boat?"
It was a burly fellow standing upon the shore who asked the question.
"Excuse me; I am looking for my father, who is missing. I just found hishat on the seat here. Did you see anything of him?"
"Missing, eh--an' thet's his headgear? Say, boy, thet's no laughin'matter," and the burly fellow looked at the youth kindly.
"I know it. I am afraid he tumbled overboard. He had times when hewasn't feeling quite right in his head."
The burly individual whistled softly to himself. "Then I reckon Sary wasright, arter all," he half mused.
"Sary? Who do you mean?"
"Sary's my wife. She woke me up about five o'clock this mornin'. We liveup in the shanty yonder. Sary said she heard somebody moanin' an'yellin' down here. I said she wuz dreamin', but I allow now ez I mighthev been mistook, eh?"
"You didn't come out to investigate?"
"No; it war too stormy. I listened, but there wuz no more of the noisearter Sary waked me up. If yer father fell overboard I'm mighty sorryfer yer. If he did go over his body must be a long way down stream bythis time."
"Poor father!" It was all Dick could say. He and his parent had beenalone in the wide world, and now to think that his only relative wasgone was almost beyond endurance.
"Take the boat and go down if yer want to," went on the burlyindividual. "Ye can leave the craft at Woolley's mill. I'd go along,only the old woman's took sick an' I've got to hustle fer a doctor."
"I will take a look around in the boat," answered Dick, and, havingprocured the oars, he set off. The current was so strong it was notnecessary to use the blades, and he had all he could do to keep thecraft from spinning around and dashing itself against the shore or theother boats which lay along both banks.
On and on the rowboat sped, until about a quarter of a mile had beencovered. Nothing unusual had yet been noted, yet the boy kept his eyesstrained for some sign of his father, praying inwardly that all mightstill be well with the only one who was left to him.
"If father is dead, what shall I do?" he thought with a shiver. "He hadall of our money with him, all of those precious papers, everything. Iwould be left a pauper, and, worse than that, without a single relativein the wide world. Oh, pray Heaven he is spared to me!"
"Look out there, youngster!"
It was a wild cry, coming from a bend in the stream. Dick had beengazing across the river. Now he turned to behold his craft rushingswiftly toward the trunk of a half-submerged tree which the storm hadtorn away from the shore.
The river was almost a torrent at this place.
He grasped the oars, intending to turn the boat from its mad course. Butthe action came too late. Crash! The craft struck a sharp branch of thetree with fearful force, staving in the bow completely, and the nextinstant the boy was hurled headlong into the boiling and foamingcurrent.
"The next instant the boy was hurled headlong intothe boiling and foaming current"]
Boy Land Boomer; Or, Dick Arbuckle's Adventures in Oklahoma Page 7