In the middle of the room was a table Jimmy always ate his meals at, and on that table was a big square piece of paper and there was a big envelope on the floor. But there wasn’t any sign of Jimmy. Oh, boy, didn’t I feel good on account of that.

Westy read the paper out loud and it was something about a convention of the Grand Army, or something like that. It said how all the members of some post or other were asked to go to Saratoga on account of that big convention and it was addressed to “Comrade James Van Dorian.” Gee, I felt awful sorry for him, sort of, because I knew how it was with him.

“He just couldn’t help it,” Westy said, “he got ready in a hurry and went. I guess he took all the money he had saved up—poor old Jimmy.”

“He’ll lose his job, that’s sure,” I said.

Even while we were standing there I could kind of see him getting dressed up in a hurry in that old blue coat he had, with the buttons all falling off it, and starting off with his crutch. Maybe he just got his pension money, hey?

All the while the whistle on the tug was blowing and I was afraid people would come around and maybe they’d all be on the side of the tugboat man and be mad at Uncle Jimmy.

Jiminy, I wasn’t mad at him, anyway.

And I could hear that old man shouting about all the things he was going to do and about the bridgeman deserting and leaving him in the mud.

“Hurry up,” Westy said, “let’s find the key-bar and we’ll open it for him; we can do it all right.”

So we looked all around in a hurry, but we couldn’t find it anywhere. The key-bar is what you open the bridge with, you know. It’s kind of like a crow-bar and you stick it in a certain place and walk around pushing it. It isn’t so hard when you get started on account of the bridge being balanced right and it’s geared up, too. But what’s the use if you can’t find the key-bar?

“It must be somewheres around,” Westy said, all excited.

Oh, didn’t we turn things inside out! But it wasn’t any use—we couldn’t find it.

“Don’t let’s bother,” I said, “I’ve got an idea; come ahead—quick!”

I didn’t even stop to tell him what I was thinking about, but I hustled back into the boat, with Pee-wee after us, wanting to know what we found inside.

“A couple of mysteries,” I panted out.

“How many?” he wanted to know.

“And a couple of ghosts thrown in,” I said. “Hurry up.”

On the way across I told the fellows to please let me talk to the old man, because I had something particular to say to him. I was panting and rowing so hard, that I couldn’t tell the fellows then. Anyway, I guess Pee-wee had that house haunted and filled with German spies and Uncle Jimmy murdered and goodness knows what all.

We pulled up right alongside the tug-boat and I called out to the old man that I wanted to tell him something and to please let me come up. I was all trembling, but anyway, I said it right out and I didn’t wait for him to say yes, because he was too busy saying other things to say it.

Westy and Pee-wee stayed in the rowboat and I went right up into the little house where the old man was. Oh, boy, wasn’t everything polished all nice and shiny! Gee, it was nice up in there. The wheel looked awfully big and the compass, you could just see your face in it. And it smelled kind of oily and nice up there. Wouldn’t I like to live in a place like that!

The old man was smoking a pipe and he blew out a lot of smoke—it was kind of like a barrage. Then he said very stern and gruff,

“Well, sir?”

Oh, boy, wasn’t I shaky! But I started right in, and when you once get started it’s easy, that’s one sure thing.

I said, “Maybe you’ll only be more mad when I tell you but I heard you say something about Uncle Jimmy deserting. Twice you said that. And I thought maybe you might be a veteran, hey? Maybe that’s a crazy thing to think, hey?”

All he said was, “Well, sir,” and he blew a lot of tobacco smoke at me and looked at me with a frown, all fierce, but I wasn’t scared.

“I only kind of deduced that,” I said, “and anyway I’ve got to admit you’ve got reason to be mad.”

Even still, all he said was, “Well, sir,” and he held his pipe so I thought maybe he was going to chuck it at me—good night!

“Anyway, if you were a soldier, maybe you’ll understand, that’s all. Uncle Jimmy, that’s what we call him, he went away to the Grand Army Convention—that’s where he went. I’m not saying he had a right to go, but one thing, big boats like yours never come up this way, so the bridge doesn’t have to be opened very often—sometimes not all summer. It’s kind of just bad luck for him, that’s all. But, one thing sure, I know how it is to be away when I ought not to be, I do. And I’m no better than he is, that’s one sure thing. I’m a boy scout,” I told him, “and my scoutmaster says you have no right to make bargains about things that are wrong. But anyway, maybe you wouldn’t think this would be trying to make a bargain with you and sticking up for somebody that did wrong. So I thought I’d ask you if you’ll please promise not to write to the government people, and I’ll promise you to open the bridge for you in ten minutes. He’s lame, Uncle Jimmy is, and he got that way in some battle, and he has to use a crutch. And that’s the reason they gave him a job. I see your tug is named General U. S. Grant, and maybe he was fighting with General Grant, hey? You can’t tell.

“We can’t find the key-bar, but about a month ago, the old key-bar fell in the river, and I know where it is. Maybe you think I’m crazy, but I’ll dive and get it for you, if you’ll only promise not to tell on Uncle Jimmy, because he couldn’t help going. Maybe you don’t understand, but he just couldn’t. I’ve got the swimming badge and that’s for diving too. All you have to do is to give me some rope, so I can take one end of it down and then you can haul it up and the key-bar will be tied to it. You can be dead sure. Because what a fellow has to do, he can do. Only you have to make me the promise first ’cause that’ll help me to do it.”