THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS

or

THE DESERTED STEAM YACHT


By Arthur M. Winfield



Chatterton-Peck Company Publishers

Copyright 1907 by The Mershon Company





CONTENTS


CHAPTER

      I. THE ROVER BOYS AND THEIR FRIENDS
     II. ABOUT A MISSING HOUSEBOAT
    III. A FRIEND IN NEED
     IV. HAROLD BIRD'S STRANGE TALE
      V. STUCK IN THE MUD
     VI. FIGHTING BOB CATS
    VII. THE HOUSEBOAT IN THE BUSHES
   VIII. IN THE SWAMP
     IX. TWO YOUNG PRISONERS
      X. THE CHASE ON THE RIVER
     XI. WHAT THE ROCKETS REVEALED
    XII. STUCK ON A SNAG
   XIII. THE CAPTURE OF SOLLY JACKSON
    XIV. ON A GULF STEAMER
     XV. THE CASTAWAYS OF THE GULF
    XVI. A DESERTED STEAM YACHT
   XVII. IN UNDISPUTED POSSESSION
  XVIII. IN PERIL OF STEAM
    XIX. THE STORM ON THE GULF
     XX. A NIGHT OF ANXIETY
    XXI. THE PICTURE IN THE CARDCASE
   XXII. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING ON THE WATER
  XXIII. THE ENEMY TRIES TO TAKE POSSESSION
   XXIV. IN THE ENGINE ROOM
    XXV, ONE PLOT AND ANOTHER
   XXVI. TURNING THE TABLES
  XXVII. DAN BAXTER'S REPENTANCE
 XXVIII. HATCHWAY AND DOOR
   XXIX. AN EXCITING TIME ALL AROUND
    XXX. HOMEWARD BOUND--CONCLUSION




INTRODUCTION

My Dear Boys: "The Rover Boys in Southern Waters" is a complete story
in itself but forms the eleventh volume of a line known by the general
title of "The Rover Boys Series for Young Americans."

Eleven volumes! Just think of it! What a great number to write about
one set of young people and their doings! When I started out, as I
have mentioned before, I thought to pen three volumes, possibly four.
I was not at all sure that the boys and girls would wish any of them.
But no sooner had I given them "The Rover Boys at School" than there
was a demand for "The Rover Boys on the Ocean" and then "The Rover
Boys in the Jungle," and then, year after year, there followed "The
Rover Boys Out West," "On the Great Lakes," "In the Mountains," "On
Land and Sea," "In Camp," "On the River," and "On the Plains," where
we last met them.

In the present tale the scene is shifted to the lower Mississippi
and then the Gulf of Mexico. As before, Sam, Tom, and Dick are
introduced, along with a number of their friends, and all have a
variety of adventures and not a little fun. While on the Gulf the
boys discover a deserted steam yacht, board the craft, and try to
ascertain who is the owner, and this leads to a mystery which I leave
the pages that follow to unfold.

Once again I take the opportunity to thank the thousands of young
folks all over our broad land who have signified their appreciation
of my efforts to afford them amusement and at the same time teach a
moral. Were it possible I should like nothing better than to write
to each and shake everyone by the hand. But that is out of the
question, so I can simply pen my thanks, and subscribe myself,

Affectionately and sincerely yours,

ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.




THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS



CHAPTER I

THE ROVER BOYS AND THEIR FRIENDS

"The houseboat is gone!"

"Tom, what do you mean?"

"I mean just what I say, Sam. The houseboat is gone--vanished, missing,
disappeared, drifted away, stolen!" ejaculated Tom Rover, excitedly.

"Tom, don't go on in such a crazy fashion. Do you mean to say the
houseboat isn't where we left it?"

"It is not,--and it is nowhere in sight on the river," returned Tom
Rover. "Come, we must tell Dick and the others about this."

"But we left the _Dora_ in charge of that big planter last night,"
insisted the youngest of the Rover boys. "He said he would take good
care of the craft."

"Well, he is gone too. I hunted high and low for the houseboat, and
for that planter, but without success."

"Maybe the boat drifted away, with the planter on board, Tom. The
current has been pretty strong since those heavy rains."

"She was tied up good and tight," answered Tom Rover, his usually
merry face wearing a troubled look. "I can't understand it."

"I must say I didn't like that planter's manner much. He looked to
be rather a sly one. Come on, let us find Dick and the others at
once," went on Sam Rover. "If the houseboat has been stolen we want
to know it right away, so we can get on the trail of the thief."

"True for you, Sam." Tom Rover heaved a short sigh. "My! what a lot
of troubles we have had since we started on this houseboat trip!"

"Yes--but we have had lots of sport too."

The two brothers were standing near the bank of the broad Mississippi
River, just below the town of Shapette, in Louisiana. The party to
which they belonged had reached the town on their journey down the
Father of Waters the day before, and an hour later the houseboat had
been tied up at a bend in the stream and left in charge of a planter
who had appeared and volunteered for the task. The planter had given
his name as Gasper Pold, and had stated that his plantation lay half
a mile inland, on higher ground. He had mentioned several people in
Shapette as being his close friends--among others the principal
storekeeper--and the boys had thought it all right to get him to look
after the houseboat while they paid a visit to a sugar plantation
where one of their party had a distant relative living.

To my old readers the Rover boys, Sam, Tom, and Dick, need no special
introduction. Sam was the youngest, fun-loving Tom next, and cool-headed
and clever Dick the oldest.

When at home the three boys lived with their father, Anderson Rover,
and their uncle Randolph and aunt Martha in a pleasant portion of
New York State called Valley Brook, near the village of Dexter's
Corners. From that home they had gone, as already related in "The
Rover Boys at School," to Putnam Hall, an ideal place of learning,
where they made many friends and also some enemies.

A term at school had been followed by a brief trip on the Atlantic
Ocean, and then a journey to the jungles of Africa, where the lads
went in a hunt for their father, who had become lost. Then they had
gone west, to establish a family claim to a valuable mine, and
afterwards taken two well-deserved outings, one on the Great Lakes
and the other in the mountains.

From the mountains the Rover boys had expected to go back to Putnam
Hall, but a scarlet fever scare caused a temporary closing of that
institution of learning and the lads took a trip to the Pacific coast
and were cast away on the ocean, as told of in "The Rover Boys on
Land and Sea," the seventh volume of this series. But all came back
safely and returned to the Hall, there to do their duty and have
considerable fun, as set forth in "The Rover Boys in Camp."

The boys' uncle, Randolph Rover, had taken an elegant houseboat for
debt. This craft was located on the Ohio River, and in a volume called
"The Rover Boys on the River," I related how Sam, Tom, and Dick
resolved to take a trip on the craft during their summer vacation.
On this outing they were accompanied by "Songbird" Powell, a school
chum given to the making of doggerel which he persisted in calling
poetry, Fred Garrison, who had stood by the Rovers through thick and
thin, and Hans Mueller, a German youth who had not yet fully mastered
the English language. To make the trip more interesting the boys
invited an old friend, Mrs. Stanhope, to accompany them, and also
Mrs. Laning, her sister. With Mrs. Stanhope was a daughter Dora, who
Dick Rover thought was the best and sweetest girl in the whole world,
and with Mrs. Laning were her daughters Grace and Nellie, warm friends
of Tom and Sam.

The trip on the houseboat started well enough, but soon came trouble
through the underhanded work of Dan Baxter, a big youth who had been
the Rovers' bitter enemy ever since they had gone to Putnam Hall,
and another boy named Lew Flapp. These young rascals ran off with
the houseboat and two of the girls, and it took hard work to regain
the craft and come to the girls' rescue. Lew Flapp was made a prisoner
and sent east to stand trial for some of his numerous misdeeds, but
Dan Baxter escaped.

"We don't want to see any more of Baxter," Sam had said, but this
wish was not to be gratified. Floating down the Mississippi, the
houseboat got damaged in a big storm, and had to be laid up for
repairs. This being so, all on board decided to take a trip inland,
and accordingly they set out, the ladies and girls by way of the
railroad and the boys on horseback.

As already told in "The Rover Boys on the Plains," this trip was full
of mystery and peril. Dan Baxter turned up most unexpectedly, and
our friends visited a mysterious ranch only to learn that it was a
rendezvous for a band of counterfeiters. Through a government detective
the counterfeiters were rounded up, only one man, Sack Todd, escaping.
Dan Baxter also got away, but later on he was traced to a big swamp,
where his horse was found, stuck fast in the slimy ooze. It was
thought by some that Baxter had lost his life trying to find his way
through the swamp, but of this the Rovers were somewhat doubtful.

After the capture of the counterfeiters the boys and their chums had
gone on to meet the ladies and the girls, and had spent a full week
at the ranch of a friend, having the best times possible, horseback
riding, hunting, and helping to round-up cattle. Then the whole party
had gone back to the Mississippi, embarked on the _Dora_, as the
houseboat was named, and floated down the mighty stream once more.

"This sort of thing is simply grand," Fred Garrison had remarked, as
he stood on the forward deck of the craft, yet an hour later he had
changed his tune. The houseboat had gone whirling in a bend of the
stream, struck a snag and hurled poor Fred overboard. He was hauled
up by Sam and Dick Rover, and then it was ascertained that the
houseboat was leaking and would have to be laid up again for repairs.

They had stopped at the town of Shapette, a small place, and there
they found a carpenter who promised to do what they wanted. When the
houseboat was laid up the captain had come to them with a letter.

"My brother in Cairo is dead," said Captain Starr. "I shall have to
leave you and look after his children."

The captain was an eccentric individual and the Rovers did not like
him much, so they were perfectly willing to let him go. They decided
to look around for somebody else to manage the houseboat and in the
meantime run the craft themselves.

With the party as cook and general housekeeper was Alexander Pop, a
colored man who had once been a waiter at Putnam Hall, but who was
now attached to the Rover household. The boys had expected to leave
Aleck, as he was called, in charge of the _Dora_ while they visited
a nearby sugar plantation, but the colored man had begged to be taken
along, "jes fo' de change," as he expressed it. As Aleck had remained
on the houseboat during the entire time the boys were on the plains
Dick agreed to take him along; and thus, for the time being, the
_Dora_ had been left in the sole care of the planter.

After the visit to the sugar plantation the party had ridden to
Shapette, to do a little shopping before returning to the houseboat.
There Tom and Sam had left the others, to make certain that the _Dora_
was in proper trim to continue the trip down the Mississippi. On the
way Sam stopped at a plantation house to get a drink of water, and
when he rejoined his brother it was to learn the dismaying news that
the houseboat and the man left in charge of the craft had mysteriously
disappeared.



CHAPTER II

ABOUT A MISSING HOUSEBOAT

"Let us go down the river and see if the _Dora_ is behind yonder
trees," suggested Sam, after he had had time to digest what his
brother had said.

"All right, if you say so," answered Tom. "But I feel it in my bones
it won't do any good."

The two brothers ran along the wet and slippery bank of the river,
which at this point sprawled out into almost a lake. They had to walk
around several wet places and were pretty well out of wind by the
time they gained the patch of wood the youngest Rover had pointed
out. They ran to a point where they could get a clear view of the
stream for a full mile.

"Gone--just as I told you," said Tom, laconically.

"Oh, Tom, do you really think that planter stole the houseboat?"

"I don't know what to think, to tell the truth. We have fallen in
with all kinds of evil characters since we began this trip."

"Even if we go back to Dick and the others and tell them, what good
will it do?"

"I don't really know. But I am going to tell Dick, just as fast as
I can."

There seemed really nothing else to do, and with heavy hearts Sam
and Tom retraced their steps to where the _Dora_ had been tied up,
and started to return to town.

"This will certainly worry the ladies and the girls a good deal,"
observed Sam, as they hurried along. "If the houseboat is gone, we
can't continue the trip."

"They won't be worried any more than we are, Sam. It's hard lines
all around. If that planter really stole the boat he ought to suffer
for it."

"Just what I say."

The brothers soon came in sight of Shapette,--a small settlement
where half of the inhabitants were of French extraction. As they
reached one of the streets they heard a cheerful whistle.

"That's Dick!" said Sam. "He won't whistle so happily when he learns
the news."

"Hullo!" came from Dick Rover, as he caught sight of his brothers.
"What brings you back so soon?"

"Thought you were going to stay on the houseboat until we got there,"
added Fred Garrison, who, with Hans Mueller, accompanied the eldest
Rover.

"There is no houseboat to stay on," answered Tom.

"What!"

"The houseboat is gone--and so is that planter who said he'd take
care of her."

"Mine cracious me!" burst out Hans Mueller. "You ton't tole me alretty!"

"Tom, you don't mean--" Dick paused.

"The houseboat is gone, clean and clear, Dick."

"And that planter, Gasper Pold--"

"Is gone too," returned Sam. "And so is that carpenter who said he'd
repair the craft."

"This is certainly too bad. Tell me the particulars," and Dick's face
grew decidedly serious.

"There isn't much to tell," said Tom. "We got there, looked around,
made a search, and here we are. No boat in sight, no person to be
seen, just nothing and nobody."

"But the houseboat must be somewhere, Tom."

"I agree with you, but not being a second-sight mind reader I can't
tell you where."

Alexander Pop, who was with the boys, had listened closely with his
eyes rolling in wonder.

"Fo' de Ian' sakes!" he ejaculated. "Dat's de wuss news I's heard in
a long time. Seems lak da was no end of troubles fo' dis crowd!"

"Well, if this doesn't beat the Dutch!" murmured Fred Garrison.

"Yah, und it beats der Irish too alretty!" came from Hans Mueller.
"Chust ven ve dink der sthars vos shinin' it begins to rain; eh,
ain't dot so?"

"You've struck the nail on the head, Hans," answered Sam. "I thought
we'd have plain sailing from to-day, and now it looks as if we'd have
no sailing at all!"

"Boys," spoke up Dick, sharply, "if that houseboat has been stolen
we must get the craft back."

"So say I, Dick," answered Tom. "But how are you going to begin about
it?"

"That remains to be seen. Of one thing I am pretty certain--if the
houseboat went anywhere it went down the stream. Only a powerful tug
or steamboat could pull such a boat up this mighty river."

"That's true--and we must look down the Mississippi for the craft,"
said Fred.

"Where is Songbird?" asked Tom.

"I left him with the ladies and the girls. They will be along presently,
in a carriage," answered Dick.

"There won't be any use of the ladies and girls going down to the
river, so long as the _Dora_ is missing," said Sam. "They'll have to
stay in town, or go back to that sugar plantation, until we learn
about the craft."

It was decided that Sam should join the other crowd and acquaint them
with the news. He found them at one of the stores, where Mrs. Stanhope
was buying some embroidery silk.

"Have you got tired of waiting for us, Sam?" asked Grace Laning, who
was the first to see the youngest Rover.

"Oh, I've got bad news, Grace." And then he told the girl of what
had occurred, in the midst of which the others came up.

"Missing again!" ejaculated Songbird Powell. "Too bad! What's to be
done?"

"We don't know yet."

The ladies were much alarmed and so were the girls. Sam did what he
could to quiet their fears, yet he felt unhappy himself.

"I did not like the looks of that planter at all," declared Dora
Stanhope. "He had the face of a sneak. I was going to speak to Dick
about it, and I am sorry now that I didn't."

"I presume we shall have to remain here until you find the houseboat,"
came from Mrs. Laning.

"Either here or at the sugar plantation," answered Sam.

"What will you do?"

"I don't know yet--probably go down the river and look for the _Dora_.
She is so large they can't hide her very well."

"Maybe the current of the river carried her away and the planter got
scared and left," suggested Songbird. "You'll remember, she broke
away once before."

"She couldn't break away--she was tied up good and tight," answered
Sam, decidedly.

"Well, if you cannot find the houseboat, we'll have to go home from
here instead of from New Orleans," said Mrs. Stanhope. "That will
shorten our trip somewhat but not a great deal. But I hope, for your
uncle's sake, that you get his property back."

"We'll do that, or know the reason why," answered Sam.

"What's this trouble about your houseboat?" asked the storekeeper,
who had caught part of the conversation.

"It's missing."

"So you said. Too bad!"

"Do you know the planter who had charge of the craft?" went on Sam.
"He was tall and thin and went by the name of Gasper Pold."

"What, did you leave your boat with that man? You should have known
better. Didn't you know Pold was an old lottery sharp?"

"We did not."

"Well, he is, and has cheated many a poor white man and nigger out
of his hard-earned savings. He's in bad flavor around here, and some
of the citizens were just about to ask him to leave or run the risk
of tar and feathers."

"Well, he has left, and taken our houseboat with him," said Sam,
bitterly. "What about Solly Jackson, the carpenter who was going to
do some repairs for us?"

"Oh, Solly's a fairly good kind, but years ago he used to work the
lottery ticket game with Pold. He's an old bachelor and never has
much to say about anything."

"Has he any regular shop?"

"Oh, no; he's a come-day-go-day sort of fellow, boards around, and
like that."

"Then he must be in with Gasper Pold," said the youngest Rover.
"They've cleared out together with our property."

"Hum! Might be so, lad. Have much on board the craft?"

"Yes, a great many things--furniture, a piano, books, and all of our
clothing."

"Hum! Quite a haul--if they can get away with it. Maybe you had better
notify the authorities."

"We certainly will--if we can't find the houseboat," said Sam, and
then, after a few words more with the ladies and the girls, he started
off to rejoin Tom and Dick, and Songbird Powell went with him.



CHAPTER III

A FRIEND IN NEED

It was ten o'clock in the morning when the discovery was made that
the houseboat was missing, and by the middle of the afternoon the
Rover boys and their chums were certain that the craft had been stolen
by Gasper Pold and Solly Jackson.

A negro boy who went by the name of Wash--evidently short for
Washington--gave them more information than anybody else. This boy,
who had been fishing near the woods below Shapette, stated that he
had seen the two men go aboard the houseboat early in the morning,
accompanied by a young man who was a stranger. The three had cast
off the ropes, poled the houseboat far out into the stream, and then
drifted out of sight down the mighty Mississippi.

"I thought dat it was werry funny da should be gwine away," said the
young darkey. "But I didn't dare to go show myself, fo' I know dat
Gasper Pold is a bad aig when he's riled up, yes, sah!"

"You didn't know the young man who went along?" asked Dick.

"No, sah--neber see him afoah, sah."

"How did he look?"

"He looked putty much lak a tramp, yes, sah! He was putty dirty too,
he was!"

"Some tramp they got to help them," was Tom's comment. "The question
is, Where will they go with the houseboat?"

"I don't think they'll dare to go to any of the big towns," said
Dick. "They'll be afraid we'll telegraph ahead to catch them. More
than likely they'll land at some out-of-the-way spot and cart our
valuables off in a wagon. Then possibly they'll cast the houseboat
adrift, or set fire to her."

"If that's the case, what's to do?" questioned Fred Garrison. "I hate
to sit still and do nothing."

"Yah! let us go after dem fellers mit pitchforks alretty!" added
Hans, vehemently. "Such robbers ought to peen electrocutioned mit a
rope, ain't dot so?"

"You mean hung, Hans," said Sam. "They certainly ought to be punished.

  "Well swing them high, I do declare,
  And let them dance on naught but air!
  And When they've danced and hour so slick,
  We'll cut them down and bury them quick,"

came softly from Songbird, who could not resist the temptation to
burst into verse.

"Great shoestrings, Songbird! To think you'd make up poetry on such
a subject," cried Fred.

"Couldn't help it--I haven't composed anything to-day," was the calm
answer.

"Maype Songpird been komposing boultry ven he been in his coffin,"
remarked Hans.

"All of which doesn't answer the question, What are we going to do?"
said Sam.

"I wonder if I can charter a small tug or steamboat to go down the
river after the houseboat," came from Dick.

"There isn't much to be had in the town," answered Fred Garrison.
"Still, we can try."

The Rovers with their friends returned to Shapette. Here they ran
into the chief of police, who also acted as a sort of detective.

"Boat stolen! Is it possible!" burst out that official. "Never heard
of such a thing befo', sah, never! I am sorry, sah, exceedingly sorry,
sah! Have you any idea who is guilty, sah?"

"I have," answered Dick, and told what he knew.

"A bad man, sah, that Gasper Pold--ought to have been arrested long
ago, sah, yes, sah. But nobody would make a complaint--all afraid of
a shooting--very quick man to draw a pistol, yes, sah."

"That's interesting," said Tom. "He'll be a fine man to confront, if
we catch up to him."

The chief of police said he would do anything he could, but in the
end refused to leave Shapette, and so did nothing. The Rovers soon
learned that all he was good for was to talk, and they left him in
disgust.

"We must take this trail up ourselves," said Sam. "And the quicker
the better."

They walked down to the river front, and after a number of inquiries
found out that to charter a tug or small steamboat was just then out
of the question, for no craft of that sort was near. But they learned
that a young man of the vicinity named Harold Bird, who was the owner
of several valuable plantations in that district, owned a new gasoline
launch of good size which was housed at a place a mile away.

"I am going to see Harold Bird," said Dick. "Perhaps he'll lend us
his launch."

They found out where the young man lived and visited the plantation
in a carriage. It was a beautiful place, with an old family mansion
surrounded by grounds laid out with exquisite taste.

"Evidently these folks have money," observed Tom.

"Oh, some of these planters are immensely wealthy," answered Sam.

As they drove into the grounds they saw a young man playing with a
bird dog on the lawn. He smiled at them pleasantly.

"Is this Mr. Harold Bird?" asked Dick.

"Yes," was the reply. "What can I do for you?"

"Let me introduce myself, Mr. Bird. I am Dick Rover, and these are
my brothers. Sam and Tom. These are my friends, Fred Garrison and
John Powell."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Harold Bird. "Why, I was reading about
you only yesterday, in the newspaper. You are the young fellows who
helped to round up that gang of counterfeiters at Red Rock ranch. It
was certainly a stirring piece of work. You deserve a great deal of
credit." And then the young Southerner shook hands all around.

"Mr. Bird, we are in trouble," went on Dick, "and we thought that
perhaps you would be able to help us out."

"I will certainly do anything that I possibly can for you. Come, sit
down and tell me what is wrong."

The young Southerner led the way to the broad veranda, and all took
seats. Then Dick and the others told about the missing houseboat and
of how they had wanted to charter a tug or a steamboat to go in pursuit.

"I could not find a vessel of any kind," said Dick. "But some folks
told me that you had a big gasoline launch, and I thought perhaps
you would let us have that. Of course we'll pay you for--"

"Never mind about pay, Mr. Rover. I shall be glad to be of service
to you. I will let you have my launch on one condition."

"And that is--"

"That you will take me with you. I love excitement, and this pursuit
of those rascals is just to my taste. We can take one of my best dogs
along, so, if we find they have landed anywhere, we can readily trace
them."

"But the danger?" said Sam.

"Why should I be afraid if you are not? Of course you will go well
armed."

"Indeed we will," said Tom. "More than likely they'll be well armed,
too."

After that a long talk ensued, and Harold Bird had the servants treat
the boys to light refreshments. He was a capital fellow, with a
winning, though rather sad smile, and all liked him from the start.

"I've seen a bit of adventure myself,--visiting Mexico and Europe,
and climbing high mountains," he said. "But I haven't had such stirring
times as you. It is very quiet here, and I shall enjoy the change."

"Are you alone here, may I ask?" said Fred, curiously.

"Yes, excepting for my overseer and the servants. The estate was left
to me by my mother, who died three years ago."

"It must be rather lonely," murmured Songbird.

"It is exceedingly lonely at times, and that is why I travel a great
deal--that and for another reason." And the face of the young man
clouded for the time. Evidently he had something on his mind, but
what it was he did not just then mention.

He told them how he had come to buy the gasoline launch and said it
was big enough to take on board a party of twelve or fifteen with
comfort. It was decided to take some provisions along, for there was
no telling how long the chase would last.

It was evening before all arrangements were completed and the whole
party went to town. There they met the ladies and the girls, and
Harold Bird was introduced.

"I should consider it an honor to have you remain at my plantation
while we are off on this search for the houseboat," said the young
Southerner. "You can stay there as long as you please and make
yourselves thoroughly at home."

As there was no good hotel in the town, this invitation relieved Mrs.
Stanhope and Mrs. Laning a great deal, and they said they would accept
the offer, and thanked the young man very much. Carriages were
obtained, and inside of two hours the ladies and the girls were at
Lee Hall, as Harold Bird called his place. There were rooms in plenty
for all, and each was made to feel perfectly at home. It was decided
that Aleck Pop should also remain at the plantation for the time being.

"The hospitality in the South is certainly marvelous," said Dora to
Dick. "When I left home I never thought I should be treated so well."

"You are right, Dora. The whole world over, you will find no greater
gentleman than one from our South."

"And what a beautiful plantation!" cried Nellie. "What grand walks,
and trees and flowers!"

"And what a fine lot of colored servants," came from Grace. "Really
they won't let me do a thing for myself!"

"I should think Mr. Bird would be very happy," said Mrs. Laning, for
at that moment the owner of the estate was not present.

"You'd think so," answered Dick. "But do you know, notwithstanding
his smiling face he appears at times to be very sad."

"I thought so," said Mrs. Stanhope. "He acts as if he had something
on his mind."

"Yes, and something that worried him a great deal," added Tom.

They were right, Harold Bird had a great deal to worry him, and what
it was we shall learn as our tale proceeds.



CHAPTER IV

HAROLD BIRD'S STRANGE TALE

Early in the morning the Rovers and their friends were ready to take
their departure. Dick came down in the garden at sunrise, and was
soon joined by Dora, and they took a short walk together.

"Oh, Dick, you must keep out of danger," said Dora. "Promise me you
will be careful!"

"I will be careful, Dora," he answered, as he looked down into the
depths of her clear eyes. "I will be careful--for your sake," he
added, in almost a whisper.

"If something sh--should happen to you!" she faltered.

"I'll take care of myself, don't fear, Dora," he made reply, and
then, as they were all alone he drew her up to him. "Dora, may I?"
he asked, softly and tenderly.

She did not answer, but looked up at him, innocently and confidingly.
He bent over and kissed her, and gave her hand a little squeeze.

"We understand each other, don't we, Dora?" he whispered.

"Of course we do," she whispered in return.

"And some day you'll be Mrs. Dick Rover?"

"Oh, Dick!"

"But you will be, won't you?"

"I--I--suppose--Oh!" And then Dora broke from Dick's hold, as Fred
Garrison and Hans Mueller appeared, around a bend of the pathway.

"Breakfast is waiting!" sang out Fred. "Hurry up, if we are to start
that search."

"All right," answered Dick.--"We'll be in right away."

"See, I vos bick me a peautiful roses," put in Hans Mueller, coming
closer. "Dick, of you ton't peen--vot you call him?--jealousness,
yah, I gif him to Dora," and he passed over the flower.

"Oh, thank you, Hans," replied Dora, and she placed the flower in
her hair. Then she gave Dick a look that meant a good deal, and they
understood each other perfectly, and both went in to breakfast feeling
very happy.

In the meantime Sam and Tom had been out on a side veranda with Grace
and Nellie. Tom was as full of fun as ever and kept the two girls in
a roar of laughter. Yet both girls grew serious when the time for
parting came.

"You look out for yourself," said Grace. "Remember, those men are
bad characters to meet."

"Yes, I shouldn't want you to get hurt for the world," added Nellie,
and when she shook hands with Tom there was something like a tear in
her eye.

Then came good-byes all around, and the carriage that was to take
Dick and the others to the town drove around to the door. The party
climbed in and in a moment more were off, the girls and ladies waving
their handkerchiefs and the boys swinging their caps and hats.

"Yo' boys dun take good care ob yo'selves," said Aleck, who stood
by, with a look of concern on his ebony face. "If yo' come back killed
dis coon will neber fo'give himself!"

"Come back as soon as you can!" called out Dora.

"Don't worry--we may be back in a day or two," answered Dick. But it
was destined to be many a long day ere the two parties should meet again.

Down at the riverside they found the launch in charge of a negro and
all ready for the start. The provisions were stored in two lockers
on board, and another locker held their firearms and some raincoats.

"Hurrah! Here is news," cried Dick, after perusing a telegram that
had been handed to him. "You'll remember I telegraphed to Benton,
the town below here. Well, here is word that the houseboat was seen
passing Benton yesterday at about five o'clock, and headed towards
the west shore. That ought to give us something to work on.

"It will," answered Harold Bird. "Come, the sooner we get started
the better."

All stepped aboard of the _Venus_, as the launch was named, and soon
the gasoline motor was buzzing away at a good rate of speed. Then
the power was turned on the screw, Harold Bird took his station at
the wheel, and away they sped from the landing and out onto the broad
Mississippi.

"Hurrah for a life on der oceans vafe und a ship on der rollings
deeps!" sang out Hans, who sat near the bow.

"Gosh, Hans is getting poetic!" said Tom. "That's right, Hansy, my
boy, keep it up and you'll soon put Songbird out of business."

"What I want to know is," came from Fred, "if we strike a sunken snag
is this launch safe?"

"As safe as any craft of her size," answered Harold Bird. "But I
shan't strike a snag if I can help it. I am not running at full speed,
and if you'll notice I am keeping where the water is fairly clear."

"Which isn't saying a great deal," came from Sam. "I never saw a
river as muddy as the Mississippi."

"I know one other stream that is worse, and that's the Missouri,"
said Harold Bird. "And as that flows into the Mississippi it makes
the latter almost as bad."

As soon as they were well on their way Dick brought out the firearms
which had been brought along, and examined them with care.

"You certainly have some fine weapons," said he, referring to the
pistols brought by Harold Bird. "Do you do much shooting--I mean with
a gun?"

"I never go shooting at all," was the young Southerner's reply, and
once again the boys saw that strange look of sadness come over his face.

"Funny, you wouldn't care to go out," said Songbird, carelessly.
"Must be quite some game around here."

"There is plenty of game, but--" Harold Bird heaved a deep sigh. "I
presume I may as well tell you my story, for you are bound to hear
it sooner or later," he went on. "About four years ago my father went
out hunting in the forest to the north of our plantation. He was out
with two friends, but about the middle of the day the party separated
and my father found himself alone. Then he saw something that to him
looked like a wildcat on a big rock. He fired quickly, and when he
drew closer he saw to his horror that he had shot and killed a man--an
old hunter named Blazen.

"The shock of the discovery made my father faint, and when the others
came up they found him working over the dead body of Blazen in a vain
endeavor to bring the hunter back to life. A doctor was called, but
nothing could be done for Blazen, for the shot had killed him instantly,
taking him squarely in the heart. Of course it was an accident, but
my father couldn't get over it. He raved and wept by turns, and at
last the doctors had to place him in confinement for fear that he
would try to do himself some injury. My mother was prostrated by the
news, and you can imagine how I felt myself."

"It was certainly terrible," said Dick, and the others nodded in silence.

"Blazen was an old bachelor, with no relatives, so there were few to
mourn over his death. We saw to it that he was given a decent burial
and advertised for his heirs, but nobody appeared. In the meantime
my father grew melancholy and the doctors thought he might become
insane. They advised a trip to new scenes, and my mother and I took
him to Europe and then to Kingston, Jamaica, where an old friend of
the family had a plantation. One day my father disappeared."

"Disappeared?" echoed Sam and Tom.

"Yes, disappeared utterly and forever. We hunted high and low for
him and offered a big reward for any information. It was useless. We
have never seen him or heard a word of him since."

"And what do you think became of him?" questioned Songbird Powell.

"I cannot imagine, excepting that he may have thrown himself into
the bay and drowned himself. He had a habit of going down to the
water and gazing out to sea by the hour."

"Too bad!" murmured Dick. "Mr. Bird, I sympathize deeply with you."

"And so do I," came from the other boys.

"The disappearance of my father made my mother ill and it was all I
could do to get her back home. There we procured the best of medical
skill, but it did little good. She had always had heart trouble and
this grew rapidly worse until she died, leaving me utterly alone in
the world."

Harold Bird stopped speaking and wiped the tears from his eyes. All
of his listeners were deeply affected. It was several seconds before
anybody spoke.

"I don't wonder you don't care to go hunting," said Sam. "I'd feel
the same way."

"I have never visited the forest since the time the tragedy took
place," answered Harold Bird. "At first I thought to sell off the
stretch of land to a lumber company, but now I have changed my mind,
and I intend to give it to the heirs of Blazen, if any appear."

"Is it a valuable tract?" asked Fred.

"The lumber company offered me twenty thousand dollars for it."

"If your father was drowned it is queer that you never heard anything
of his body," said Fred.

"Bodies of drowned people are not always recovered," answered the
young Southerner. "But he must have been drowned, for if he had been
alive we surely would have heard something of him. The reward we
offered set hundreds of people to hunting for him."

"It is certainly a mystery," said Dick. "I suppose you'd give a good
deal to have it cleared up.

"I'd give half of what I am worth," answered Harold Bird, earnestly.



CHAPTER V

STUCK IN THE MUD

Noon found our friends at the town of Benton--a place of some importance
in the cotton trade. Without delay Dick sought out the man who had
had to do with the telegrams.

"I can't tell you much more than what I put in the message," said
the man. "I saw the houseboat out yonder and headed in that direction.
I was watching her when a fog came up and hid her from view."

"I think I can follow her," put in Harold Bird. "Anyway, we can try."

"Did those fellows steal the houseboat?" questioned the Benton man.

"They did."

"Then I hope you catch them."

Our friends did not stop to get dinner, but took their lunch on board
of the _Venus_. The river at Benton was broad and deep and consequently
Harold Bird turned on full speed, sending the launch forward with
such a rush that the water often came in a shower of spray over the bow.

"I may be mistaken, but I have an idea that those rascals headed for
Lake Sico," said the young Southerner. "Gasper Pold used to hang
around that lake, and most likely there are men there who would aid
him in disposing of whatever is on the _Dora_ of value."

"Where is Lake Sico?" asked Sam.

"About fifteen miles from here. It is a very broad and shallow sheet
of water, and is reached by a narrow and tortuous bayou all of four
miles long. One end of the lake is a perfect wilderness of bushes
and brake--an ideal hiding-place for the houseboat."

"Then perhaps we had better explore the lake," said Tom.

"There is only one objection," answered Dick. "If the houseboat is
not there, we'll be losing a lot of valuable time."

"Is the entrance to the bayou very narrow?" asked Tom. "For if it
is, the houseboat would be apt to strike the mud shore and leave marks."

"Yes, it is narrow, and we'll look for marks by all means," answered
the young Southerner.

As they were moving with the stream it did not take the launch long
to reach the bayou that connected the lake with the Mississippi. But
close to the bayou entrance the swirling waters had cast up a ridge
or bar of mud and on this the launch slid and stuck fast.

"Hullo, we're stuck!" cried Tom.

"And we are up out of the water too," came from his younger brother.

"Can't we back?" asked Fred.

"I'll try it," returned Harold Bird.

The screw of the launch was reversible and he made the change in
power. The water was churned up into a muddy foam, but that was all.
The _Venus_ did not budge an inch.

"One of the joys of a life 'on der rollings deeps'!" grumbled Tom,
imitating Hans. "Songbird, can't you compose an ode in honor of the
occasion?"

"Certainly I can," said Songbird promptly, and started:

"As firm as a rock, our launch now rests
Upon her bed of mud,
As safe as a ship on a golden sea--"

"Or a clothespin in a tub!" finished Tom. "Songbird, give us something
better, or none at all."

"Say, vot has a clothesbin in a dub to do mit being stuck here
alretty?" questioned Hans, innocently.

"Why, Hansy, old boy, that's easy," cried Tom. "A clothespin is for
sticking something fast, and we are stuck fast. Now, can't you see
the joke, as the blind astronomer said to the deaf musician?"

"Yah, dot's so, but ve ain't stuck on no clothes-pins," answered
Hans, soberly. "Ve vos stuck on der Mississippies Rifer, ain't it."

"Score one for Hans," came, with a laugh, from Sam. "Hans, what do
you think we ought to do?"

"Dake a rope py der shore und bull der poat loose."

"That's the talk," said Songbird. "Hans can carry the rope ashore.
The water is only a foot deep."

"And the mud is about sixteen feet deep," put in Dick, quickly. "Don't
try it, unless you want to sink out of sight."

For several minutes all sat still in the launch, viewing the situation
with considerable dismay.

"This is something I didn't bargain for," said Fred. "But we may as
well make the best of it."

"Let us try to shove her off," suggested Dick.

On board the launch were three poles of good size, each fixed so that
a small, square board could be fastened to one end. Dick took one of
these poles and Tom and Sam seized the others.

"Now, Hans, Fred, and Songbird, get in the stern," said Dick.

"That's the talk, and I'll try to back her at the same time!" cried
Harold Bird. "All ready?"

In a minute they were ready to try the experiment and the power was
turned on. As the screw churned the water and mud once more, the
three Rovers pushed on the poles with all their might.

"Hurrah! she's moving!" cried Fred.

He was right, the _Venus_ was slowly but surely leaving the bank of
mud. Suddenly she gave a twist and then ran backwards rapidly, and
then the power was shut off again.

"Free at last!" cried Tom. "Now what's the next move?"

"We must find the proper channel into the bayou," answered the owner
of the launch.

Dick and Tom went to the front with their poles and the power was
turned to a slow speed forward. The Rovers felt their way in the
water with the poles, calling to turn to the right or the left, as
the case required. By this means they soon left the treacherous mud
bars behind and reached a point where forward progress was more certain.

"Now then, let us look around and see if we can find any traces of
the _Dora_," said Dick.

"The houseboat couldn't have come over that spot--she would have been
stuck sure," said Fred.

"Years ago Solly Jackson used to be a riverman," said Harold Bird.
"He would probably know exactly how to get the houseboat into the
bayou. Gasper Pold couldn't run the craft himself, so he had to take
in a fellow like Solly."

As the gasoline launch entered the bayou all kept their eyes on the
alert, and presently Songbird set up a shout:

"Look over yonder--there are some sort of marks on the bank!"

He was right, and they turned the launch in the direction indicated,
advancing slowly. There was a sharp cut in the mud and also several
pole holes which looked to be rather fresh. A few feet further on
they came to a piece of a pole painted blue.

"That settles it," exclaimed Dick. "They certainly brought the
houseboat in here. Our poles were painted blue, and that is a piece
of one."

"The very one I cracked in the storm," added Sam.

"I can explain it," said Harold Bird. "They got the houseboat around
the mud bars, but the force of the current, combined with the current
in the bayou, swung the craft up against this bank. Then they had to
pole the houseboat off."

"But how did they go on, against the current from the lake?" asked
Songbird.

"Pulled and poled the houseboat. Just wait and see if I am not right."

They waited, and soon reached a point where one bank of the bayou
was fairly firm. Here they could see footprints and the "shaving" of
a rope as it had passed over the edge of the bank.

"We are on the right track," said Dick. "Now, all we have to do is
to locate the houseboat and corner the rascals who stole her."

"All!" cried Fred. "I should say that was enough!"

"Especially if they offer to fight," added Sam.

"It is a pity we can't come on them unawares," said Tom. "But that
is impossible, for you can't run the launch without making a noise."

"Maybe you don't besser git out dem bistols alretty," came from Hans.
"Of da ton't gif ub ve plow der heads off, ain't it!"

"Yes, we may as well get out the firearms," said Dick. "The sight of
the pistols may have a good effect. Perhaps the rascals will give up
without fighting."

The pistols were gotten out, and all of the youths saw to it that
they were in perfect condition for immediate use. As he looked at
the weapons Harold Bird shuddered.

"I suppose you hate the sight of them,--after what happened to your
father," said Dick, in a low tone.

"I do. I sincerely trust there is no bloodshed," answered the young
Southerner.

It was nightfall by the time the launch was clear of the bayou. In
front of them lay the calm waters of Lake Sico--a shallow expanse,
with mud flats at one side and a wilderness of trees, bushes, and
wild canebrake at the other. They shut off the power and listened.
Not a sound broke the stillness.

"Talk about solitude," was Tom's comment. "Here is where you can chop
it out with an ax!"

"It's enough to make one shiver," added Fred.

Just then the dog Harold Bird had brought along set up a mournful howl.

"Even the dog doesn't like it," said Songbird. "Let us go on--I'd
rather hear the puff-puff of the gasoline motor than listen to such
stillness."

"I thought a poet craved solitude," said Dick. "This ought to fill
you with inspiration."

"I think it will fill us with chills and fever," said Fred. "Ugh,
how damp it is, now the sun is going down."

"There is a mist creeping up," said Harold Bird. "Too bad! I was in
hope it would remain clear."

Soon the darkness of night settled over the lake. The mist continued
to roll over them until they were completely enveloped and could no
longer see where they were going.

"It can't be helped," said the owner of the launch. "We'll have to
wait until daylight. If I light the acetylene gas lamp it will simply
put those rascals on guard."

"Vot is ve going to do--sthay on der poat all night?" asked Hans.

"We can either do that or go ashore--just as you wish."

"Let us move towards shore," said Dick. "It will be more pleasant
under some overhanging trees or bushes."

This was agreed to, and they steered for the bank of the lake, which
was not far away. None of them dreamed of what that night was to
bring forth.



CHAPTER VI

FIGHTING BOB CATS

It was certainly a dismal and dreary outlook, and it did not help
matters much to run the launch under the wide overhanging boughs of
several trees growing at the edge of the lake. They were in something
of a cove, so the view was shut off on three sides.

"I wish we had brought along some extra blankets," said Sam. "If it
is raw now what will it be by midnight?"

"Hadn't we better build a little campfire?" questioned Fred. "It will
make it ever so much more pleasant."

"I do not advise a fire," answered Harold Bird. "If those rascals
should see it, they'd come here to investigate, and then try to slip
away from us in the darkness."

"You are right," put in Dick. "We must keep dark until we have located
them,--otherwise the game will be up."

To protect themselves still more from the mist and cold, they brought
out four rubber blankets of good size. These were laced into one big
sheet and raised over the launch like an awning. Then all huddled
beneath, to make themselves as comfortable as possible.

"Don't you think somebody ought to remain on guard?" asked Tom. "We
don't want those fellows to carry us off and us not know it!"

"Da can't vos carry me off dot vay," said Hans, who could never see
the funny side of a remark. "I vould kick, I tole you!"

"As there are seven of us, why not have everybody stand guard for
just an hour?" suggested Sam. "If we turn in at ten that will carry
us through to five in the morning--when we ought to continue our hunt."

"Providing the mist will let us," smiled Harold Bird. "But I think
your plan a good one," he added.

Lots were drawn and Fred went on guard first, to be followed by Hans
and Tom. At ten o'clock all of the crowd but Fred turned in, to get
as much sleep as possible.

"I tole you vot." remarked Hans, as he tried to make his head feel
easy on one of the seats. "Dis ton't vos so goot like mine ped at
Putnam Hall!"

"Not by a good deal!" answered Songbird. "Dear old Putnam Hall! After
all the pleasures we have had, I shall be glad to get back to that
institution again."

The Rover boys had been through so much excitement during their lives
they did not think the present situation unusual and so all went to
sleep without an effort. Harold Bird remained awake nearly an hour,
thinking of the new friends he had made and of the strange fate of
his father. The young Southerner was of a somewhat retiring disposition,
and it astonished even himself when he realized how he had opened
his heart to the Rovers and their chums.

"I feel as if I had known them for years, instead of hours," he told
himself. "There is a certain attractiveness about Sam, Tom, and Dick
I cannot understand. Yet I do not wonder that they have a host of
friends who are willing to do almost anything for them."

When Tom went on guard he was still sleepy and he did a large amount
of yawning before he could get himself wide-awake. He sat up in the
bow of the launch, the others resting on the cushions on the sides
and stern. All was as silent as a tomb, and the mist was now so thick
that he could not see a distance of six yards in any direction.

"Ugh! what a disagreeable night!" he muttered, as he gave a shiver.
"I'd give as much as a toothpick and a bottle of hair-oil if it was
morning and the sun was shining."

A quarter of an hour went by--to Tom it seemed ten times as long as
that--and then of a sudden the lad heard a movement at the bottom of
the launch. The dog Harold Bird had brought along arose, stretched
himself, and listened intently.

"What is it, Dandy?" asked Tom, patting the animal on the head. "What
do you hear?"

For reply the dog continued to listen. Then the hair on his back
began to rise and he set up a short, sharp bark.