WELL, all day we went through the humbug of watching one another, and
it was pretty sickly business for two of us and hard to act out, I can
tell you. About night we landed at one of them little Missouri towns high
up toward Iowa, and had supper at the tavern, and got a room upstairs with
a cot and a double bed in it, but I dumped my bag under a deal table in
the dark hall while we was moving along it to bed, single file, me last,
and the landlord in the lead with a tallow candle. We had up a lot of
whisky, and went to playing high-low-jack for dimes, and as soon as the
whisky begun to take hold of Bud we stopped drinking, but we didn't let
him stop. We loaded him till he fell out of his chair and laid there
"We was ready for business now. I said we better pull our boots off,
and his'n too, and not make any noise, then we could pull him and haul him
around and ransack him without any trouble. So we done it. I set my boots
and Bud's side by side, where they'd be handy. Then we stripped him and
searched his seams and his pockets and his socks and the inside of his
boots, and everything, and searched his bundle. Never found any di'monds.
We found the screwdriver, and Hal says, "What do you reckon he wanted with
that?" I said I didn't know; but when he wasn't looking I hooked it. At
last Hal he looked beat and discouraged, and said we'd got to give it up.
That was what I was waiting for. I says:
"There's one place we hain't searched."
"What place is that?" he says.
"By gracious, I never thought of that! NOW we're on the homestretch, to
a dead moral certainty. How'll we manage?'
"Well," I says, "just stay by him till I turn out and hunt up a drug
store, and I reckon I'll fetch something that'll make them di'monds tired
of the company they're keeping."
"He said that's the ticket, and with him looking straight at me I slid
myself into Bud's boots instead of my own, and he never noticed. They was
just a shade large for me, but that was considerable better than being too
small. I got my bag as I went a-groping through the hall, and in about a
minute I was out the back way and stretching up the river road at a
"And not feeling so very bad, neither-walking on di'monds don't have no
such effect. When I had gone fifteen minutes I says to myself, there's
more'n a mile behind me, and everything quiet. Another five minutes and I
says there's considerable more land behind me now, and there's a man back
there that's begun to wonder what's the trouble. Another five and I says
to myself he's getting real uneasy-he's walking the floor now. Another
five, and I says to myself, there's two mile and a half behind me, and
he's AWFUL uneasy-beginning to cuss, I reckon. Pretty soon I says to
myself, forty minutes gone-he KNOWS there's something up! Fifty
minutes-the truth's a-busting on him now! he is reckoning I found the
di'monds whilst we was searching, and shoved them in my pocket and never
let on-yes, and he's starting out to hunt for me. He'll hunt for new
tracks in the dust, and they'll as likely send him down the river as up.
"Just then I see a man coming down on a mule, and before I thought I
jumped into the bush. It was stupid! When he got abreast he stopped and
waited a little for me to come out; then he rode on again. But I didn't
feel gay any more. I says to myself I've botched my chances by that; I
surely have, if he meets up with Hal Clayton.
"Well, about three in the morning I fetched Elexandria and see this
stern-wheeler laying there, and was very glad, because I felt perfectly
safe, now, you know. It was just daybreak. I went aboard and got this
stateroom and put on these clothes and went up in the pilot-house-to
watch, though I didn't reckon there was any need of it. I set there and
played with my di'monds and waited and waited for the boat to start, but
she didn't. You see, they was mending her machinery, but I didn't know
anything about it, not being very much used to steamboats.
"Well, to cut the tale short, we never left there till plumb noon; and
long before that I was hid in this stateroom; for before breakfast I see a
man coming, away off, that had a gait like Hal Clayton's, and it made me
just sick. I says to myself, if he finds out I'm aboard this boat, he's
got me like a rat in a trap. All he's got to do is to have me watched, and
wait-wait till I slip ashore, thinking he is a thousand miles away, then
slip after me and dog me to a good place and make me give up the di'monds,
and then he'll-oh, I know what he'll do! Ain't it awful-awful! And now to
think the OTHER one's aboard, too! Oh, ain't it hard luck, boys-ain't it
hard! But you'll help save me, WON'T you?-oh, boys, be good to a poor
devil that's being hunted to death, and save me-I'll worship the very
ground you walk on!"
We turned in and soothed him down and told him we would plan for him
and help him, and he needn't be so afeard; and so by and by he got to
feeling kind of comfortable again, and unscrewed his heelplates and held
up his di'monds this way and that, admiring them and loving them; and when
the light struck into them they WAS beautiful, sure; why, they seemed to
kind of bust, and snap fire out all around. But all the same I judged he
was a fool. If I had been him I would a handed the di'monds to them pals
and got them to go ashore and leave me alone. But he was made different.
He said it was a whole fortune and he couldn't bear the idea.
Twice we stopped to fix the machinery and laid a good while, once in
the night; but it wasn't dark enough, and he was afeard to skip. But the
third time we had to fix it there was a better chance. We laid up at a
country woodyard about forty mile above Uncle Silas's place a little after
one at night, and it was thickening up and going to storm. So Jake he laid
for a chance to slide. We begun to take in wood. Pretty soon the rain come
a-drenching down, and the wind blowed hard. Of course every boat-hand
fixed a gunny sack and put it on like a bonnet, the way they do when they
are toting wood, and we got one for Jake, and he slipped down aft with his
hand-bag and come tramping forrard just like the rest, and walked ashore
with them, and when we see him pass out of the light of the torch-basket
and get swallowed up in the dark, we got our breath again and just felt
grateful and splendid. But it wasn't for long. Somebody told, I reckon;
for in about eight or ten minutes them two pals come tearing forrard as
tight as they could jump and darted ashore and was gone. We waited plumb
till dawn for them to come back, and kept hoping they would, but they
never did. We was awful sorry and low-spirited. All the hope we had was
that Jake had got such a start that they couldn't get on his track, and he
would get to his brother's and hide there and be safe.
He was going to take the river road, and told us to find out if Brace
and Jubiter was to home and no strangers there, and then slip out about
sundown and tell him. Said he would wait for us in a little bunch of
sycamores right back of Tom's uncle Silas's tobacker field on the river
road, a lonesome place.
We set and talked a long time about his chances, and Tom said he was
all right if the pals struck up the river instead of down, but it wasn't
likely, because maybe they knowed where he was from; more likely they
would go right, and dog him all day, him not suspecting, and kill him when
it come dark, and take the boots. So we was pretty sorrowful.