dan walked up the plank that ran from the shore to the bow of the house-boat, and entered the cabin without ceremony. it was as dismal a hole as he had ever looked into, and dan, accustomed as he was to gloomy surroundings, wondered how anybody could live there. it contained but one apartment, and that was used as a 299kitchen, sitting-room, dining-room and bed-room. the men were lounging in their bunks, while their wives were gathered about the rusty stove puffing vigorously at their well-blackened cob-pipes. when the boat careened under dan’s weight, one of the men sprang from his bunk and made an effort to conceal a couple of chickens he had just been picking; but as soon as he saw who the visitor was, he laid them down again, for he knew he had nothing to fear.
“mornin’. i reckon i skeered ye jest a trifle, didn’t i? how wet ye be in here,” said dan, glancing at the little pools of water that filled every depression in the rough, uneven floor.
“come in an’ take a cheer, dannie,” said the man who had tried to hide the chickens, while the other two sat up in their bunks and nodded to him. “it is damp, that’s a fact; but, you see, it rained powerful yesterday, the roof aint by no means as tight as it might be, an’ the ole scow leaks water awful. we can’t hardly keep her pumped out.”
“then what makes ye stay here?” asked dan. “i know a nice, tight leetle house over thar on 300the shore of the lake, with two big rooms into it, an’ thar aint nobody lives thar.”
“we’ve seen it; but it’s locked up.”
“what’s the odds? take something an’ pull one of the steeples out, an’ ye kin get in as easy as fallin’ off a log.”
“we don’t want to get into no trouble. who owns it?”
“don gordon; but he’s off somewhere goin’ to school, an’ thar’s no tellin’ when he will be to hum.”
“does he live thar when he’s to home?”
“no. he jest stays there a leetle while an’ shoots ducks an’ geese. that’s what he built it fur.”
“rich folks always has nice things,” said one of the men who had not spoken before, “but we poor folks has to take what we can get. we’re just as good as gen’ral gordon too, every day in the week.”
“so be i,” said dan, “an’ i wouldn’t stand back if i wanted to go thar. thar aint no sense in don’s livin’ in that shantee when his father’s got a big house with carpets an’ a pianner into it, an’ chiny an’ silver to set the table with.”
301“no, thar ain’t,” said the man who had done the most of the talking and who answered to the name of barlow. “we’ll move our duds over thar, if we can get in, an’ stay thar until we can fix our boat up a little. if everything works right, we’ll have a better one before long.”
he got upon his feet as he spoke and drew from under his bunk a short bar of iron, which had more than once come into play when barlow wanted to force an entrance into somebody’s smoke-house. carrying this in his hand, he went ashore with dan, who led the way through the woods toward don gordon’s shooting-box. it was the work of scarcely a moment to pull out one of the staples, and when that had been done, the door swung open, and dan and his companion went in to take a survey of the interior. it was dry and comfortable, as clean as it could possibly be, and barlow at once decided that he would live there as long as he remained in that neighborhood.
“it’s nice to be rich,” said he, seating himself in one of the empty bunks, after touching a match to the pile of light wood which the lawful owner of the shooting-box had left in the fire-place. 302“it’s nice to have horses an’ hounds an’ niggers to work for you, while you have nothing to do but ride around the country an’ enjoy yourself. that’s the way i’d live if i had the chance to make money that your brother’s got.”
“yes, dave makes right smart,” said dan, with some pride in his tones, “an’ he don’t do no work, nuther. but he’s scandalous mean with what he ’arns. he gives it all to mam, an’ me an’ pap never have none of it. he’s gettin’ mighty tired of dave’s way of doin’, pap is, an’ t’other night he told dave that he could jest fork over every cent of his ’arnin’s, an’ let pap have the handlin’ of ’em. dave, he said he wouldn’t do it, an’ i’m looking for the biggest kind of a furse up to our house when next pay-day comes.”
“your pap has got the right to every cent dave makes till he is twenty-one years old, an’ dave can’t hender him from takin’ it,” said barlow. “i ’spose he carries a heap of money between the landin’ an’ the county-seat in that mail-bag of his’n.”
“i should say he did!” exclaimed dan. “only last night he brought in five thousand dollars for mr. brigham—the father of that boy who was 303down here with me t’other day. lester said so this mornin’. he told me too that dave brings in just that much on the fifteenth day of every month.”
barlow started and looked hard at dan, and then he looked down at the floor. “wal, if i was dave,” said he, after a moment’s pause, “i’d bring in jest one more of them letters, an’ then i’d skip.”
“so would i,” said dan. “what does brigham want with that money? he’s got more’n he can use already. lester said so.”
“that’s always the way with rich folks, dannie. the more they get the more they want; an’ me an’ you an’ everybody like us could starve for all they care. we’re jest as good as they be too. it’s a wonder to me that somebody don’t go for dave an’ take some of them letters away from him.”
“i don’t care if they do,” answered dan. “if i should see ’em doin’ it, i wouldn’t lift a hand to hender ’em. that would bring dave down from his high hoss, fur gen’ral gordon wouldn’t never hire him to tote the mail agin; an’ then he’d have to scratch for a livin’ the way me an’ pap does.”
304“it would serve him right, for bein’ so stingy,” said barlow.
“but the feller that goes for him had better watch out,” continued dan, “fur dave, he carries a double-barrel dissolver in his pocket. it shoots six times, an’ he knows how to use it.”
“i don’t reckon that would stand in the way of anybody who wanted them letters,” said barlow, with a laugh. “if dave should see a couple of loaded rifles lookin’ him square in the face, he wouldn’t think of his six-shooter.”
“mebbe he wouldn’t,” said dan. “but if i could ride that mail-route the next time brigham’s money-letter comes in—if dave could be tuk sick, or get lost in the woods, or something so’t i could take his place—the fellow that wanted them five thousand wouldn’t have no trouble, for i shouldn’t have no dissolver with me. but he’d have to give me half.”
this was the idea that had so suddenly suggested itself to dan evans—to get david out of the way for one day so that he could carry the mail, and give barlow and his two friends a chance to secure a portion of mr. brigham’s money. if barlow had jumped at the bait thus adroitly 305thrown out, dan would have proposed that, after the robbery had been accomplished, they should all take to the flat-boat, push it out into the river, and let the current take it to new orleans, where they would divide the money and separate, dan going his way and barlow and his companions going theirs. dan thought it was a splendid idea, but barlow knocked it into a cocked hat by the very next words he uttered.
“you couldn’t take your brother’s place even for a single day,” said he.
“what fur?” demanded dan, who was greatly surprised. “can’t i ride that thar colt of his’n as well as he kin?”
“i ’spose you can; but that ain’t the pint. you’ve never been swore in fur a mail-carrier, an’ so you would have no right to tech that mail-bag. if dave should be tuk sick or get lost in the woods, gen’ral gordon would have to carry the mail himself.”
“whoop!” yelled dan, jumping up and knocking his heels together. “he’d be a wusser man to fool with nor dave, fur he’s an old soldier.”
barlow made no reply. the boy had given him something to think about, and he was as anxious 306to be rid of his presence as dan was to get rid of his friend lester brigham. he left him without taking the trouble to assign any reason for his hurried departure, and went back to his boat. in the course of the day he and his friends transferred their luggage to the shooting-box, and there they lived until they were ordered out by its indignant owner. as their time was not fully occupied they had leisure to talk about the mail-carrier and mr. brigham’s money; and we shall presently see how their numerous consultations resulted.
