CHAPTER V.
IN WHICH PHIL VAINLY SEARCHES FOR THE GRACEWOODS.
"Of course you know whether the man we are looking for is in this roomor not, Glynn," said the officer, when he found that the door waslocked.
"'Pon my word I do not," protested the assistant.
"Did you let the room to any other person?"
"I did; but Lynch may occupy it with him, for aught I know. Thesefellows all run together, and I don't know who are in the rooms. We letthem for a dollar a night, and don't care who sleeps in them."
The officer knocked at the door, and was promptly answered by a personwhose voice did not sound at all like Lynch's. My hopes were failing,and I would have taken half my money, and given a receipt in full forthe whole, if I could have made such a trade.
"Open the door," said the officer.
Even this request was promptly complied with, and we found the bedoccupied by only one person. Glynn protested that he had not seenLynch since he gave him the key and the light early in the evening;and, whether we believed him or not, we were forced to accept hisexplanation. We saw Redwood afterwards, and he appeared to be asinnocent as his immaculate assistant. Both of them apologized to me forthe rude treatment to which I had been subjected, and declared thatthey had made a bad mistake in taking me for a house-breaker, since Iwas now vouched for by no excellent a person as Captain Davis, of thesteamer Fawn. If they ever saw Lynch again, they would hand him over tothe officers of the law. It was for their interest to do so, becausethe reputation of the house was greatly injured by having a personrobbed within it. They would do what they could to recover my money;and if they succeeded, where should they send it?
Captain Davis could not help laughing at this speech, and told me Ineed not trouble myself to leave any address. Both protested that theywere in earnest; and certainty their logic was correct, whether theywere sincere or not. If the local newspaper stated that a person hadbeen robbed of a hundred dollars at Redwood's lodging-house, the factwould deter others from going there, for even gamblers and other fastmen would object to having their money stolen. We left the house, andI gave up my money as lost; but I was willing to believe that I hadpurchased a hundred dollars' worth of wisdom and experience with it,and so I had a fair equivalent.
In the street I found the officer was not disposed to abandon thecase. He had a reputation to make in that new land; and perhaps it wasworth more to him than to me to find the money. I was entirely willingthat he should increase his credit as a thief-taker by restoringmy property, and I warmly seconded his endeavors. We watched thelodging-house till dinner time, but without seeing any one who lookedlike Lynch. In short, the officer made no progress in establishing atitle to the position of chief of police when the office should becreated in the new and growing city.
I returned to the steamer at the landing, and of course my firstinquiries were for Mr. Gracewood and his family. To my astonishment andgrief, not a word had been heard of them. Captain Davis had caused athorough search to be made in the town, without obtaining the slightestclew to them. I was amazed, and so were others who were interested inthe fate of the absent ones. It was incredible that any calamity hadovertaken them by which the whole party had been lost. If the boat hadbeen upset, the deck hands at least could have saved themselves.
I forgot all about my money in my anxiety for my friends. I could notbelieve that they had been lost; it was too sad and too improbable tobe considered, and I rejected the supposition. But the mystery weighedheavily upon me. The steamer was ready to proceed on her voyage, andthe passengers were grumbling at the delay; but Captain Davis wasunwilling to proceed without the absentees. In the middle of theafternoon he cast off his fasts, when a portion of his passengers, whohad not paid their fare, threatened to leave the boat, and take anotherwhich was in sight above the town. But, instead of continuing on hisway down the river, he headed her up the stream, in order to examinethe shores for any signs of the lost family.
I was deeply interested in the fate of Mr. Gracewood, his wife anddaughter, for they were really the only friends I had in the world. Ihad been saved from a burning steamer by old Matt Rockwood, and wasbrought up by him in his cabin. I knew nothing of my parents, but oldMatt had been a father to me, and the coming of Mr. Gracewood furnishedme with a competent instructor in manners, morals, and the variousbranches of learning. After the death of old Matt, my good friend hadbeen strangely joined by his wife and daughter, and I had lived oneseason with the family. As the winter approached, we had left our homein the wilds of the far west, and were now on our way to St. Louis.These events all passed in review through my mind, as I thought of theGracewoods who had so strangely disappeared.
Old Matt Rockwood had left a considerable sum of money in his chest,which, with the profits of our farm and wood-yard, amounted to oversixteen hundred dollars, when the accounts were finally settled.Fifteen hundred of this sum was in the keeping of Mr. Gracewood,though I held his note for it, and was in no danger of losing it,though he should never appear again. But I had no selfish thoughts.I was interested only in the safety of my friend and his family. Thedaughter, pretty Ella Gracewood, had been my constant friend andcompanion at the settlement. I had rescued her from the Indians whohad captured her, and it would have broken my heart to know that anycalamity had overtaken her.
The Fawn went up the river in spite of the grumbling of the passengers.We passed the steamer coming down the stream; but Captain Davisdeclared that he should be on his way to St. Louis before the otherboat could get away from Leavenworth. Like all other western steamboatmasters, he said and did all he could to get and keep his passengers.Extending from the mouth of the stream, where our steamer had passedthe night, there was a cut-off, through which the boat, with Mr.Gracewood, had come. The water rushed through it like a sluice, andprobably by this time it is the main channel of the river.
"Stop her!" shouted Captain Davis to the pilot, as the boat was passingthe outlet of this cut-off.
"What is it, captain?" I asked, startled by the order, and fearful thathe had discovered some evidence of a disaster.
"There is an oar," said he, pointing to the shore.
I saw the oar, which had washed up on the bank of the river. The boatwas run up to the point, and it was identified as one belonging to themissing boat.
"That is something towards it," said the captain, as the oar wasexamined on board. "If they didn't lose the other one they could getalong well enough."
"Perhaps they did lose the other," suggested the mate.
"It is not very likely they lost both oars," added Captain Davis.
"Do you suppose the boat upset?" I asked, with my heart in my mouth.
"Certainly not. If it did we should have found the boat, or heard fromthe men. The whole party could not have been drowned in a narrow placelike that," replied the captain, confidently.
"What do you think has become of them?" I continued.
"Nothing worse than being carried down the river could have happened tothem. I'm sure of that. It's absurd to think that three men should belost in a stream not a hundred feet wide. Go ahead, pilot!" shouted thecaptain.
"Down stream?" asked the man at the wheel.
"Yes; we shall pick up the party somewhere below."
The Fawn came about, and to the great satisfaction of the growlingportion of her passengers, resumed her voyage down the river. I didthe best I could to convince myself that no catastrophe had overtakenmy friends. When we came to Leavenworth, we found that the steamer wehad passed--whose name was the Daylight--was not there. If she hadstopped at all, she had not remained there more than a few minutes.Captain Davis was annoyed at this circumstance, for she would takethe passengers and freight that were waiting at the various points onthe river below, which would otherwise have been taken by the Fawn. Isaw him go down to the main deck, where the furnaces and boilers werelocated, and in a short time I was conscious that they were crowdingthe boat up to her highest speed. A race had commenced, not so muchto ascer
tain which of the two boats was the fastest, as to obtain thefreight and passengers that were awaiting transportation at the townsbelow us. I felt no interest in the trial of speed, which at anothertime might have afforded me a pleasant excitement. From the hurricanedeck I watched the shores, to obtain any tidings of the missing boat orher passengers.
At Delaware City the Daylight made a landing; but the Fawn, to mysurprise and chagrin, did not stop. It was possible that the Gracewoodshad been carried down to this point in their unmanageable boat, and hadlanded here.
"Why don't you make a landing here? Captain Davis?" I inquired.
"Because the Daylight has gone in ahead of me, and I shall get nofreight or passengers if I don't keep ahead of her."
"But Mr. Gracewood and his family may be here."
"It is not improbable. I feel that I have done all I could for them."
"You might stop."
"I can't sacrifice the interest of my owners, Phil. If the Gracewoodsare there, they can take passage in the Daylight. They will not sufferany great hardship, while my boat may lose hundreds of dollars by thedelay."
"I shall be in misery till I hear from them."
"You need not be. I am sure no serious accident has happened to them. Iwant the two men I sent in the boat, but I couldn't stop to get them,even if I knew they were at Delaware City. But we shall hear from yourfriends before long. The Daylight will drive her wheels hard to keepup with us. I see she hasn't much freight, and she will stop at everyplace of any size."
"But if you keep ahead of her all the time, how shall we get any newsfrom her?"
"The Fawn is faster than the Daylight, and I can afford to let her passme at any place where I can obtain freight enough to make it an object.If the Gracewoods are on board of her, they will make themselves knownas she goes by. There will be a good deal of freight at Kansas City,where we shall arrive to-night. You will probably find the Daylightthere in the morning."
I was satisfied with the captain's explanation, and I hoped the morningwould justify his expectations. We made no landings till we reachedKansas City, about eight o'clock in the evening. There was a crowd ofpassengers there, who rushed on board as soon as the plank was laiddown. The freight was immediately taken on board. I was very tiredafter the exertions and excitement of the day and of the precedingevening, and I went to bed, hoping and expecting to see the Daylight atthe landing when I awoke in the morning. I slept very soundly, in spiteof the grief and anxiety that weighed upon me; and it is fortunate thatNature will assert her claim, or we might sometimes wear ourselves outwith fruitless repinings.
When I came to my consciousness in the morning, I discovered that theboat was in motion. The monotonous puff of the steam-escape pipessaluted my ears. Half dressed, I went out upon the gallery of the boat,but I could see nothing that looked like Kansas City, or the Daylight.The deck hands had been taking in freight when I went to sleep; but howlong the boat had been in motion I could not tell.