An older trapper sauntered over and seated himself at Tom's side. "Been watchin' them fer quite a spell," he said in a low voice. "Ain't that ol' feller St Louis Joe?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders, and saw a great light. Who hadn't heard of St. Louis Joe? His new friend's love of gambling, and his success against Stevens and his crowd would be accounted for if the trapper was right. He glanced at the speaker and replied: "Don't know. I never saw him till I crossed th' levee at St. Louis jest afore we sailed."

"Looks a heap like him, anyhow," muttered the newcomer. "Fair an' squar, _he_ war. I seen him play when I war goin' down to N'Orleans, ten year ago. Never fergit a face, an' I sh.o.r.e remember _his_, fer he war playin'

that time fer 'most all th' money in th' Mississippi Valley, I reckon.

Consarn it, I _know_ it's him! Fer ol' times' sake, if he gits inter trouble with that skunk, I'm with him ter th' hilt." He started to leave the table, thought better of it and slid forward to the edge of his chair. "He's bein' cheated blind. I saw that skunk palm a card!"

Tom nodded, his hand resting on his belt, but he did not take his eyes from the game. He suspected that Uncle Joe was pretty well informed about what was going on and would object when it suited him.

The first trapper leaned over the table and whispered to his friend.

"This young feller is watchin' the cheat, an' I'm watchin' th' pardner.

You might keep an eye on that Independence hoss-thief over thar--that feller with th' raw meat face, that _this_ youngster gave him. From th'

way he's lookin' thar ain't no tellin' how this hyar party is goin' ter bust up."

The second plainsman nodded and after a moment dropped his pipe on the floor. He shifted in his chair as he reached down for it and when he sat up again he was in a little different position, and not a thing at Schoolcraft's table escaped his eyes.

"I'll take th' greaser 'longside him," muttered the third plainsman.

"W'ich is a plain duty an' a pleasure. Bet ye a plew I nail him atween his eyes, fust crack, if he gits hostile."

Suddenly there came a loud smack as Uncle Joe's left hand smashed down on the cards in Stevens' hand, holding them against the table while his right hand flashed under the partly b.u.t.toned edge of his long frock coat. It hung there, struggling with something in the inside pocket.

Stevens had jerked his own hand loose, relinquishing the cards, and with the sharp motion a small, compact percussion pistol slid out of his sleeve and into his grasp as his hand stopped. He was continuing the motion, swinging the weapon up and forward when Tom, leaning suddenly forward in his chair, sent his heavy skinning knife flashing through the air. The first trapper had thrown a pistol down on the gambler's partner, the second stopped Ephriam Schoolcraft's attempted draw against Tom, and the third plainsman was peering eagerly along the barrel of his pistol at a spot between the Mexican's eyes. Had it been a well rehea.r.s.ed act things could not have happened quicker or smoother.

Not five other persons in the cabin had any intimation of what was coming until Tom's knife, flying b.u.t.t first through the air, knocked the pistol from Stevens' hand. The weapon struck the floor and exploded, the bullet pa.s.sing through a cabin window. As the knife left his hand the thrower had leaped after it and he grabbed the desperate gambler in a grip against which it was useless to struggle. Uncle Joe, loosening his hold on the pocket pistol tangled in the lining of his coat, leaped around the table and quickly pa.s.sed his hands over the clothing of the prisoner.

"What's th' trouble here?" demanded the quick, authoritative voice of the captain as he ran in from the deck. "Who fired that shot, an' why?"

He soon was made familiar with the whole affair and stepped to the table, picked up the cards and spread them for everyone to see. Asking a few questions of disinterested eye-witnesses, he looked about the cabin and spoke.

"I've nothing to say about gambling on this boat as long as gentlemen play," he said sharply. "When the play is crooked, _I_ take a hand. I can't overlook this." He motioned to the group of boat hands crowding about the door and they took hold of Stevens and his partner. "Take these men and get their effects, and then put them ash.o.r.e in the yawl.

I'll have provisions put aboard while you're gone. Stevens, due south not many miles is the St. Louis-Independence wagon road. It is heavily traveled this time of the year. You can't miss it. Besides that there are numerous cabins scattered about the bottoms, and not far upstream is a settlement. Take 'em away." Glancing over the cabin again and letting his eyes rest for a moment on Ephriam Schoolcraft, he wheeled and started for the door, but paused as he reached it. "If there's any further trouble I'll be on the hurricane deck, for'rd. We're going to run all night if we can. I don't want any more disturbance on this packet."

As the captain left, Uncle Joe thanked Tom and the trappers and joined them at their table, providing the refreshment most liked by the plainsmen, and the reminiscences became so interesting that the little group scarcely noticed Tom arise and leave it. He was too restless to stay indoors and soon found a place to his liking on the deck below, near the bow, where he paced to and fro in the darkness, wrestling with a tumult of hopes and fears. Reaching one end of his beat, he wheeled and started back again, and as he pa.s.sed the cabin door he suddenly stopped and peered at the figure framed in the opening, and tore off his hat, too surprised to speak.

"Mr. Boyd?" came a soft, inquiring, and anxious voice.

"Yes, Miss Cooper; but I thought you were fast asleep long ago!"

"I was," she replied; "but something that sounded like a shot awakened me, and thinking that it seemed to come from the card tables, I became fearful and dressed as hurriedly as I could in the dark. Is--is Uncle Joe--all right?"

"In good health, good company, and in the best of spirits," replied Tom, smiling at how the last word might be interpreted. "I left him only a moment ago, swapping tales with some trappers."

"But the shot. Surely it _was_ a shot that awakened me?"

Tom chuckled. "Sleeve pistol fell to the floor and went off accidentally," he explained. "Luckily no one was hurt, for the ball pa.s.sed out of a window and went over the river. Are you warm enough?

This wind is cutting." At her a.s.sent he took a step forward. "I'll see you to your room if you wish."

"I'm too wide awake now to sleep for awhile," she replied, joining him.

"Didn't the boat stop?"

"Yes; two pa.s.sengers went ash.o.r.e in the yawl," he answered. "These packets are certainly accommodating and deserve patronage. Why, Miss Cooper, you're shivering! Are you sure you are warm enough?"

"Yes," she answered. "Something is bothering me. I don't know what it is. I wish we were at Independence though. Day and night this river fascinates me and almost frightens me. It is so swift, so treacherous, so changeful. It reminds me of some great cat, slipping through a jungle; and I can't throw the feeling off. If you don't mind, I'll join you in your sentry-go, you seem to give me the a.s.surance I lack; but perhaps I'll interfere with your thoughts?"

"Hardly that," he laughed, thrilling as she took his arm for safety against stumbles in the dark. "You stimulate them, instead. I really was pacing off a fit of restlessness; but it's gone now. Look here; I wonder if you fully realize the certain hardships and probable dangers of the overland journey you are about to make?"

"Perfectly, Mr. Boyd," she answered, quietly. "You'll find me a different person on land. I underestimate nothing, but hope for the best. From little things I've picked up here and there I really believe that the dangers of the trail will be incidental when compared with those at the other end--at Santa Fe. I have reason to believe that father has had a great deal of trouble, along with other Americans, with Governor Armijo. Why is it that American citizens are insulted with impunity by Mexican officials? I understand that an Englishman may safely travel from one end of Mexico to the other, secure from annoyance, unless it be at the hands of Indians over whom the government exercises but little control."

"It's a universal complaint along the frontier," he replied. "It seems to be the policy of this country to avoid hurting the sensibilities of any vicious officialdom or ignorant populace. We seem to prefer to have our citizens hara.s.sed, insulted, and denied justice, rather than a.s.sert unequivocally that the flag goes in spirit with every one of us so long as we obey the laws of any country we are in. If it were not for the banding together of the American traders and merchants in Santa Fe, it would be very hazardous for an American to remain there. Armijo has had a few clashes with our people and is beginning to have a little respect for their determination and ability to defend their rights. Since the sufferings of the Texans have become known, there are any number of Americans in frontier garb who would cheerfully choke him to death. It would be a G.o.dsend to the New Mexican people if----"

There came a terrific crash, the boat stopped suddenly and the deck arose under their feet as a huge log smashed up through it. They were torn apart and thrown down, and as Tom scrambled to his feet, calling his companion's name, he felt a great relief surge through him as he heard her answer.

CHAPTER VII

THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE

Tom grasped his companion's arm and hurried her toward the place where the yawl was tied as shouts, curses, tearing wood and a panic-stricken crowd of pa.s.sengers pouring out of the cabins and rooms turned the night into a pandemonium, over which the hysterical blasts of the whistle bellowed its raucous calls for help far and wide across water and land.

There came a rush of feet and several groups of pa.s.sengers dashed toward the yawl, but stopped abruptly and hesitated as the Colt in Tom's hand glinted coldly in the soft light of a cabin window.

"Women first!" he snarled, savage as an animal at bay. "I'll kill th'

first man that comes any closer! Get those bullboats overside, an'

somebody round up th' other women an' bring 'em here! Keep cool, an'

everybody'll be saved--lose yore heads an' we'll all die, _some_ quicker'n others! Not another step forward!"

"Right ye air, friend," said a voice, and Zack, pistol in hand, dropped from the deck above and alighted at Tom's side like a fighting bobcat.

"Put over them bullboats--an' be sh.o.r.e ye get hold o' th' ropes when ye do. _Lady!_" he shouted, catching sight of an emigrant and his wife.

"Come hyar! An' you," he commanded her husband, "stan' by us--shoot ter kill if ye pulls trigger. Fine bunch o' cattle!" he sneered, and the rapidly growing crowd, finding that the guns facing them did not waver, turned and stampeded for the bullboats, every man of it bellowing orders and getting in the way of everyone else. There came a splash, a chorus of curses as a bullboat, thrown overboard upside down, slipped away in the darkness.

"Right side up, ye tarnation fools!" roared a voice, accompanied by a solid smash as a hunter near the boats knocked down a frantic freighter and took charge of the mob. "I'm fixin' fer to kill somebody!" he yelled. "Hang onter that rope or I'll spatter yer brains all over creation! Right side up, d.a.m.n ye! Hold her! Thar! Now then, put over another--if ye git in that boat till I says so ye won't have no need fer it!"

Friends coming to his aid helped him hold the milling mob, and their coolness and determination, tried in many ticklish situations, stood them in good stead.

"Ask th' captain how bad she is!" shouted Tom as he caught sight of Joe Cooper tearing through the crowd like a madman. "I got Patience an'

another woman here!"

"I might 'a' known it," yelled Uncle Joe, fighting back the way he had come. In a moment he returned and shouted until the frantic crowd gave him heed. "Cap'n says she can't sink! Cap'n says she can't sink! Listen, d.a.m.n ye! Cap'n says she can't sink. He's groundin' her on a bar! Keep 'em out of them boats, boys! _Don't_ let them fools get in th' boats!

Not till th' very last thing! They'll only swamp 'em."

"Good fer you, St. Louis!" roared a mountaineer, playing with a skinning knife in most suggestive manner.

"Th' boilers'll blow up! Th' boilers'll blow up! Look out for th'

boilers!" yelled a tenderfoot, fighting to get to the boats. "They'll blow up! They'll blow----"

Zack took one swift step sideways and brought the b.u.t.t of his pistol down on the jumping jack's head. "Let 'em blow, sister!" he shouted.

"_You_ won't hear 'em! Any more scared o' th' boilers?" he yelled, facing the crowd menacingly. "They won't blow up till th' water gits to 'em, an' when it does we'll all be knee-deep in it. Thar on this hyar deck, ye sheep!"