About noon the next day, while Clip was at the helm, there was a sudden jolt that jarred the boat from stem to stern, if I may so speak of a double-ender ferry-boat.

Bob and Sam, who had been occupied with re-arranging some of the cargo, rushed up to the colored pilot.

"What on earth is the matter, Clip asked Bob.

"'Clare to gracious, I dunno, Massa Bob," asseverated Clip.

Bob didn't need to repeat the question. Clip had steered in shore, and the boat had run against a tree of large size which had fallen over into the river, extending a distance of a hundred feet into the stream. Of course the boat came to a standstill.

"What made you do this, Clip?" said Bob, sternly.

"Didn't do it, Massa Bob. Ol' boat run into the tree himself."

"That won't do, Clip. If you had steered right, there would have been no trouble."

"I steered just as you told me to, Massa Bob."

"No, you didn't. You should have kept the boat at least a hundred and fifty feet from the shore."

"Didn't I, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, innocently.

"No. Don't you see we are not more than fifty feet away now?"

"I didn't get out and measure, Massa Bob," said Clip, with a grin.

"Now, own up, Clip, were you not looking at something on the bank, so that you didn't notice where you were steering?"

"Who told you, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, wondering.

"I know it must be so. Do you know you have got us into trouble? How am I going to get the boat back into the stream?"

Clip scratched his head hopelessly. The problem was too intricate for him to solve.

"I think, Clip, I shall have to leave you over at the next place we come to. You are more bother than you are worth."

"Oh, don't, Massa Bob. I won't do so again. 'Deed I won't."

Bob didn't relent for some time. He felt that it was necessary to impress Clip with the heinousness of his conduct. At length he agreed to give him one more chance. He had to secure the services of two stout backwoodsmen to remove the tree, and this occasioned a delay of at least two hours. Finally the boat got started again, and for the remainder of the day there was no trouble.

Towards the close of the afternoon they reached a place which we will call Riverton. It was a smart Western village of about two thousand inhabitants. Bob and Sam went on shore to get some supper, leaving Clip in charge.

"Now, Clip, you must keep your eyes open, and take good care of everything while we are gone," said Bob.

"All right, Massa Bob."

About ten minutes after the boys went away Clip was sitting on a barrel whistling a plantation melody, when a slender, florid-complexioned young man stepped aboard.

"Good-evening, sir," he said, removing his hat.

"Evenin'," answered Clip, with a grin. He was flattered by being addressed as "sir."

"Are you in charge of this boat?"

"Yes; while Massa Bob and Sam are gone ashore."

"Are they boys like yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you three all that are on board—I mean all that man the boat?"

"Yes, massa."

"Where are you bound?"

"To St. Louis."

"Do you think they would take me as passenger?"

Clip shook his head.

"They won't take no passengers," he answered. "An ol' woman wanted to go as passenger, and another man" (Clip was unconscious of the bull), "but Massa Bob he said no."

"Suppose I make a bargain with you," said the man, insinuatingly.

"What you mean, massa?" asked Clip, rolling his eyes in wonderment.

"Can't you hide me somewhere without their knowing I am on board?"

"What for I do dat?" asked Clip.

"I'll make it worth your while."

"What's dat?"

"I'll give you five dollars."

"For my own self?"

"Yes; for yourself."

"And I won't have to give it to Massa Bob?"

"No; you can spend it for yourself."

"But Massa Bob would find out to-morrer."

"If he finds out to-morrow I shan't mind."

"And you won't take back the money?"

"No; you can keep the money at any rate."

"Where's the money?" asked Clip, cautiously.

The stranger took out a five-dollar gold piece, and showed it to Clip. Clip had seen gold coins before, and he understood the value of what was offered him.

"Where can I put you?" he said.

"We'll go round the boat together, and see if we can find a place."

The round was taken, and the stranger selected a dark corner behind a bin of wheat.

"Will Massa Bob, as you call him; be likely to look here?"

"No; I reckon not."

"Have you got anything to eat on board which you can bring me by and by?"

"I'm goin' on shore soon as Massa Bob gets back. I'll buy something."

"That will do."

The stranger ensconced himself in his hiding-place, and soon after Bob and Sam returned.

"Has anybody been here, Clip?" asked Bob.

"No, Massa Bob," answered Clip, solemnly.

Poor Clip's moral convictions were rather obtuse, and a lie did not impress him as seriously wrong.

"What have you been doing while we were away?"

"Nothin', Massa Bob."

"That's what you like best to do, Clip, isn't it?"

"Dat's where you're right, Massa Bob. Yah, yah!"

"Well, you can go to your supper, Clip. Here's some money."

"All right, Massa Bob."

Clip did not seem in any great hurry to go. He was rather afraid that Bob and Sam would explore the boat while he was away. Finally he walked away with slow steps, looking back from time to time.

"What's got into Clip?" said Bob, wonderingly.

"I guess he isn't hungry," answered Sam, with a laugh.

Ten minutes later Bob's attention was drawn to a crowd of men and boys who were approaching the boat. He naturally wondered what was the object of the assemblage.

The leader called out to Bob, when he had approached sufficiently near:

"I say, boy, have you seen anything of a man with dark hair, florid complexion, wearing a light suit, running along the bank?"

"No, sir. Why?"

"A man of that description has stolen a sum of money from a dry-goods store in the town. He was seen running in this direction. We thought you might have seen him."

"No, sir; I have seen nothing of such a man."

Bob little dreamed that the thief in question was concealed at that moment within twenty-five feet of where he was sitting.