ars
to me, Henry, I kinder like bein' a pirate, 'specially when you do the
takin', an' ain't took yourself."

"That's so," laughed Henry, "but we'd better keep pulling, Sol, with all
our might. They're sure to pursue, and, as they have plenty of men for the
oars we need all the start that we can get."

They were well out in the middle of the stream now, and the deep, powerful
current of the Mississippi was aiding them greatly, but both glanced back.
The shore was lined with men and another volley was fired. All the bullets
fell short, and Shif'less Sol laughed contemptuously.

"Now they are beginnin' the pursuit," he said.

Four boats had been cut loose, and, filled with Spaniards, they were
pushed from the bank. Henry turned the prow of their own boat until it
bore in a slanting direction toward the eastern shore.

"What's your plan?" asked the shiftless one.

"The river, you know, has overflowed on the eastern shore over there for
three or four miles; we must lose ourselves in the forest on that side."

"An' let 'em pass us?"

"That's just it. We want 'em to go on ahead of us to Louisiana, while we
follow. Besides we've got to pick up Paul and Jim and Tom."

Shouts arose from the pursuers and more shots were fired, but they were
still beyond the range of the Spanish muskets and the two were untouched.
They were not even alarmed.

"There's a lot of confusion in the boats," said Henry, who looked back
again with a critical eye, "and as they don't pull together they're not
gaining. The night is also growing darker and that helps us, too. Keep it
up, Sol!"

"All right," said the shiftless one, increasing his stroke. "It's fine to
be a pirate, Henry. Wonder why I never tried it afore! But I believe I'll
always be a pirate at night when you've got more chance to git away."

"You're right as usual, Sol," said Henry as he, too, increased his stroke.

They pulled away for some time without further words, and the pursuers,
also, settled into silence save for an encouraging shout now and then to
the rowers. Henry thought that he discerned both Alvarez and Braxton
Wyatt in the foremost boat and he could imagine the rage and chagrin of
both.

"I believe they're gaining," he said presently to Sol.

"Yes," replied the shiftless one, "that big boat thar is creepin' up."

"Crack!" came a report and a bullet embedded itself in the stout wood of
their own boat. Both recognized the report. It was not that of a Spanish