both hands on the wife of the actor, and Ramsey
chafed to no avail.

The senator's voice dropped again. "Good God, sir, you know the longer
they're aboard the worse it will be for them, and they've got to go some
time or at Louisville a mob will burn the _Votaress_ to the water's edge
with them on her."

The two stared at each other, the senator's mind bewailing the loss of
each golden moment. The night was not too dark to show him the poker
face fitting its nickname insufferably. But not until its owner spoke
again did he frown--to hide an exultant surprise.

"They could leave their maid, you think, with Madame Hayle?" was Hugh's
astonishing inquiry. The senator had expected of him nothing short of a
grim defiance.

"They could--they can," replied both he and the soldier. "That'll
satisfy everybody." The general saw only the surface of the proposition
but the senator perceived in it all the opportunity their two modest
accomplices of the boiler deck asked. That pair and their adherents--not
followers--you wouldn't catch them leading--they and their gathering
adherents would construe the landing of the players as an attempt to
deliver them out of their hands and would undertake to seize and
maltreat the actor, at least, the moment he should be off the boat. That
they were likely to fail was little to the senator; there would be a
tumult, so managed as to bring Hugh to the actor's rescue, and in the
fracas Hugh was sure of a hammering he would not only never forget but
would discern that he owed, first and last, to him, the senator.

Hugh glanced at the clerk. "You had just recommended Delta Landing." The
clerk nodded and he turned back to the senator. "We'll be there inside
of half an hour."

"Delta will do," said the senator, his frown growing.

Hugh nodded to the clerk. The clerk looked over to Ned.

"Think Delta's above water?"

"Oh--eyes and nose out, Watson allows."

"Delta'll be all right," persisted the senator.

The clerk glanced up to the pilot-house. "Mr. Watson, we'll stop at
Delta, to put off a couple o' passengers."

"Yes, sir." The group at the pilot's back gasped at each other. Then
Ramsey gasped at him.

"Oh, what does that mean?" she demanded. But his gaze remained up the
river as he kindly replied:

"What it says, I reckon. Don't fret, ladies--when you don't know what to
do, don't do it."

"Ho-o-oh!" cried Ramsey, whisking away, "I will!"

"Lawd 'a' massy!" Old Joy sprang for the d