Twenty miles further down the river, at a point called Rocky Creek, two men of questionable appearance were walking slowly along the bank. One of them has been already introduced as visiting the boat, and displaying a great deal of curiosity about the cargo. The other, also, had the look of one who preferred to live in any other way than by honest industry.

"Suppose the boy doesn't touch here?" said one.

"Our plan would in that case be put out," said his companion; "but I don't think there is any doubt on that point. Last night he was at Sheldon, and this would naturally be the next stopping-place."

"He is drawing near the end of his cruise. It won't do to delay much longer."

"You are right, there."

"I wasn't in favor of delaying so long. We have risked failure."

"Don't worry, Minton. I'm managing this affair. I've got just as much at stake as you."

"If all comes out right, I shall be satisfied; but I need the money I am to get for it from old Wolverton."

"That's a trifle. I am playing for a larger stake than that."

"What, then?"

"The paltry fifty dollars divided between two would not have tempted me. Do you know, Minton, how large and valuable a cargo there is on that old ferry-boat?"

"No; do you?"

"Not exactly; but I know this much, that there are at least a thousand bushels of wheat, which will easily fetch, in St. Louis, two thousand dollars."

"How will that benefit us?"

"You seem to be very dull, Minton. When we have once shut up young Burton in the place arranged, you and I will take his place, drift down the river, and dispose of the cargo, if necessary, at a point below the market price, and retire with a cool thousand apiece."

"You've got a head, Brown!" said Minton, admiringly.

"Have you just found that out?" returned Brown, complacently.

"Do you really think there is a chance of our succeeding?"

"Yes; of course we must be expeditious. Two or three days, now, ought to carry us to St. Louis. Then, by selling below the market price, we can command an immediate sale. Then, of course, we will clear out; go to California, or Europe, or Canada."

"But we must get Wolverton's money."

"If we can without risk. It won't be worth that."

"I don't like the idea of the old man escaping scot-free."

"He won't; you may be sure of that," said Brown, significantly. "He has placed himself in our power, and we will get a good deal more than fifty dollars out of him before we get through, or my name isn't Brown."

"What a head you've got!" repeated Minton, with cordial admiration of the sharper rascal.

"Then there's the other affair, too!" said Brown. "We are safe to make a good round sum out of that."

"Yes; but how can we look after the other? It won't be safe for us to remain anywhere in this locality if we sell the cargo."

"Leave that to me, Minton. I will get Joe Springer to negotiate for us."

By this time the reader will have guessed that these two men were those already referred to as having stopped Wolverton on the night preceding Bob's departure. The arrangement then made, Brown had improved upon. He had engaged to remove the boys from the boat, and set it adrift. But it had occurred to him, after ascertaining the value of the cargo, to sell it for the joint benefit of his confederate and himself. It was the most promising job he had undertaken for a long time, and he was sanguine of ultimate success. He had followed the boat down the river, and had finally selected Rocky Creek as the point most favorable to the carrying out of his design.

Meanwhile Bob and Clip were on their way down the river. Sam, as already described, had left them at Sheldon, and was enjoying himself as the guest of Captain Granger, as he found his kinsman was called. Bob missed him, not finding Clip, though improved, as reliable as Sam. But he was drawing near the end of his voyage and was willing to make the sacrifice, since it seemed to be so favorable to Sam's prospects. The information which had been communicated to them touching Aaron Wolverton's breach of trust did not, on the whole, surprise him, except by its audacity; for Wolverton had thus far been careful not to place himself within reach of the law and its penalties. He was delighted to think Sam had found a new friend and protector, who would compel the unfaithful guardian to account for his dishonesty.

Clip heartily sympathized with Bob in his feeling upon the subject. He liked Sam, but disliked Wolverton as much as one of his easy, careless disposition was capable of doing.

"It seems lonely without Sam," said Bob, while standing at the helm, with Clip sitting on deck whistling just beside him.

"Dat's so, Massa Bob."

"But I am glad he has found a relation who will help him to get his money."

"I'd like to see ol' man Wolverton when Sam come back with Massa Granger."

"Probably you will have a chance to see him. If he hadn't driven Sam away by his bad treatment he would never have found out how he had been cheated."

"Dat's so, Massa Bob. I'd like to be in Sam's shoes."

"You'd have to make your feet smaller, then, Clip!"

"Yah! yah!" laughed Clip, who enjoyed a joke at his own expense.

Bob found his work harder now that Sam was not on board to relieve him of a part of his duty. But they were making good speed, and there seemed a chance of reaching St. Louis within three days. All was going well, yet an indefinable anxiety troubled Bob. Why, he could not explain.

"Clip," he said, "I don't know how it is, but I feel as if something were going to happen."

"What can happen, Massa Bob? De boat is all right."

"True, Clip. I suppose I am foolish, but I can't get rid of the feeling. Clip, I want you to be very careful to-night. Don't let any mysterious passenger come on board."

"No, Massa Bob. I won't do dat agin."

"We shall soon be in St. Louis, and then our care and anxiety will be over."

"Where will we stop to-night?"

"At Rocky Creek."

It was a quarter to five when Bob reached the place where he had decided to tie up. There was a village of about five hundred inhabitants situated a little distance from the river-side. A small knot of loungers was gathered at the landing, and with languid interest surveyed the river craft and the young crew.

Among them Bob recognized the man who had visited them two or three stations back. He knew him by his dress; the Prince Albert coat, the damaged hat, and the loud neck-tie. But apart from these he remembered the face, dark and unshaven, and the shifty black eyes, which naturally inspired distrust. The man made no movement towards the boat, but leaned indolently against a tree.

"Clip," said Bob, quietly, "look at that man leaning against a tree."

"I see him, Massa Bob."

"Have you ever seen him before?"

"Yes, Massa Bob; he came aboard de boat one day."

"I thought I couldn't be mistaken. I wonder how he comes to be here. Can he be following us?"

It was too hard a problem for Clip, who only shrugged his shoulders.

Just then another man from the assembled group lounged on board. It was Minton.

"Boat ahoy!" said he, jauntily. "Are you the captain?"

"I'm all the captain there is," answered Bob.

"Have you any wheat to sell? I am a grain merchant."

He looked more like a penniless adventurer, Bob thought.

"I have no wheat to sell here," said Bob, coldly. "I am on my way to St. Louis."

"Perhaps I can do as well by you as the grain merchants in St. Louis."

"I don't care to sell here," said Bob, shortly.

"No offense, young man! I suppose a man can make an offer?"

"Certainly, sir."

But the stranger did not leave the boat. He walked about, scrutinizing the arrangements carefully.

"You've got a pretty big cargo, boy," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"How many bushels now, about?"

"Why do you wish to know?" asked Bob, eying the stranger keenly.

"I thought I might like to load a boat like this some time, and it might be of use to know how much it would carry."

"Do you live in Rocky Creek?" asked Bob, suddenly.

"Ye-as."

"May I ask your name?"

"Smith—James Smith," answered the other, with hesitation.

"Very well; when I have sold my cargo I will write you the number of bushels the boat contains."

"Thank you."

"Decidedly, the boy is sharp!" said Minton to himself. "He's no milk-and-water boy!"

He left the boat, and presently joined his friend Brown.