Don brought his boat close to the wind, and went scudding across the river to get out of the steamer’s way. He held well over toward the eastern shore, and when he stood off on the other tack the steamer had passed, and Bert announced, in a low tone, that there were lights straight ahead. They were close to the water, and the sail-boat’s crew had but one opinion concerning them. They belonged to a flat-boat, but whether 342or not it was the one of which they were in pursuit, was a question that only time could solve.

“Lay us aboard of her without any ceremony,” said the general. “Bert, stand by with the boat-hook. We must move quickly, and give them no chance to throw the mail overboard, if they have got it.”

Don kept the bow of his little craft pointed toward the flat-boat, and so silently did she move through the water that the man who stood at the steering-oar, keeping a sharp look-out in front of him, but never thinking to look behind, was entirely unconscious of her approach. Presently Bert reached for the boat-hook, at the same time giving a nod that everybody understood. A few minutes more would decide whether they were on the right track or not. Bert stood up in his place; Don, at a sign from his father, paid out the main-sheet rapidly, thus bringing his craft broadside to the house-boat, and just then the man at the steering-oar awoke from his reverie and turned quickly about.

“Keep away, there!” he shouted, in great alarm. “Keep away, or you’ll sink us.”

343Don did not want to sink the house-boat, but he wanted to come alongside of her, and he did it a moment later in a very creditable manner. The instant the two boats touched, General Gordon and his party sprang over the side and ran into the cabin, some going in at the back door and the others at the front, leaving Don and Bert to act as grappling-irons, and to keep the boats from drifting apart. The man at the steering-oar was captured by Egan, who stood guard over him with his double-barrel, and Barlow and his companion, who were busy in the cabin, were covered by the constable’s revolver and Godfrey Evans’s rifle before they had time to think of their weapons.

“This looks like business,” said the officer, handing his six-shooter to Fred Packard, and drawing three pairs of handcuffs from his pocket.

The others thought so too. David’s mail-bag lay upon the table—he would never carry it again, for it had been ruined by being cut open with a knife—and its contents were scattered about over the floor and in the bunks. The most of the letters had been torn open, and the robbers had reaped a very fair reward for their trouble, 344having secured about forty dollars in greenbacks, and a check for three hundred dollars, drawn by a country merchant in favor of his creditors in Memphis. The general took charge of the bills and the check, while the constable lost no time in putting the irons on Barlow and his confederate.

“Where’s the other?” said he. “There ought to be three of them.”

“Here he is,” said Egan, who marched his prisoner into the cabin and turned him over to the officer, at the same time making a sergeant’s salute, as he would if he had been at the academy.

“I told you jest how it would be,” said the steersman, glaring savagely at Barlow as he felt the cold handcuffs clasped about his wrists. “Why didn’t you hide, as I wanted you to do, instead of trying to run?”

“You would have showed a little more sense if you had done that,” said the constable, “but on the whole, we are very well satisfied. Now keep still, all of you,” he added, shaking his finger at the women, who, having checked their loud lamentations, now showed a disposition to become abusive. “Godfrey, keep your eye on 345these men until they are safe under lock and key.”

Godfrey was just the one for this business. There was only one thing that would have suited him better, and that was an order to punch the prisoners’ heads. For the first time his eyes were opened to the fact that David was a great help to the family, and that the loss of his position as mail-carrier would be a serious blow to all of them.

“If me an’ Dan would only wake up an’ stay woke up, we’d get along well enough,” he said to himself, as he leaned on his long rifle and looked thoughtfully at the floor. “Dave’s doin’ his shar’, an’ me an’ that lazy, good-for-nothin’ Dan has got to do our’n from this day on; an’ that’s just all thar is about it. Dan never would a thought of puttin’ anybody up to robbin’ Dave if he had been to work, an’ I’ll see that he has plenty to do in futur’, I bet ye.”

While General Gordon and the constable were gathering up the mail and putting it into the bag, they had much to talk about. They had secured the robbers, and the next thing was to get them back to Rochdale. They had about 346decided that they would tie the house-boat to the bank and take the prisoners up the river in the sail-boat, when Curtis came in to say that there were lights below them; whereupon the general picked up Barlow’s horn and went out to answer the steamer’s signals. This having been done, he waited for her to come abreast of the flat-boat. She proved to be a large stem-wheeler with a tow of empty coal barges.

“Steamer, ahoy!” shouted the general.

“Hallo!” responded a man who was standing on the hurricane-deck near the bell.

“What steamer is that?”

“The ‘B No. 2’ of Pittsburg.”

“Is that you, Captain Pratt?”

“Yes; but that can’t be you, Gordon.”

The general replied that it was he; and upon receiving this reply the captain raised his hand, the pilot rang the stopping-bell, and the steamer’s wheel hung motionless in the water.

“Why, Gordon, what in the world are you doing here at this hour in the morning?” demanded the captain.

“Can’t stop to explain now,” answered the 347general.“ Will you give us a lift as far as Rochdale?”

“Of course I will. Can you bring that tub of yours along............