"Very well, then; it is up to you to get away, and I take it that you
understand this river. Where is the main current along here?"

"From de p'int yonder, over ter de east shore."

"And the depth of water across from us? We are going to head up
stream."

"Yas, sah; yer plannin' fer ter go nor'. Wal, sah, dars planty o'
watah fer dis yere boat right now, wid de spring floods. Nothin' fer
ter be a'feered of 'bout dat."

"That is good news. Now, Sam, I am going to cut this line, and I want
you to steer straight across into the shadows of the Illinois shore. I
believe you are going to play square, but, for the present, I'm going
to take no chances with you. I am holding this pistol within a foot of
your head, and your life means nothing to me if you try any trick.
What is the speed of this boat up stream?"

"'Bout ten mile an hour, sah."

"Well, don't push her too hard at first, and run that engine as
noiselessly as possible. Are you ready? Yes--then I'll cut loose."

I severed the line and we began to recede from the shore, cutting
diagonally across the decidedly swift current. Once beyond the
protection of the point the star-gleam revealed the sturdy rush of the
waters, occasionally flecked with bubbles of foam. Sam handled the
unwieldy craft with the skill of a practiced boatman and the laboring
engine made far less racket than I had anticipated. Ahead, nothing was
visible but the turbulent expanse of desolate water, the Illinois shore
being still too far away for the eye to perceive through the darkness.
Behind us the Missouri bluffs rose black, and fairly distinct against
the sky, but dimming constantly as the expanse of water widened to our
progress. Pistol in hand, and vigilant to every motion of the negro,
my eyes swept along that vague shore line, catching nowhere a spark of
light, nor any evidence that the steady chug of our engine had created
alarm. The churning wheel flung white spray into the air, which
glittered in the silver of the star-rays, and occasionally showered me
with moisture. At last the western shore imperceptibly merged into the
night shadows, and we were alone upon the mysterious bosom of the vast
stream, tossed about in the full sweep of the current, yet moving
steadily forward, and already safely beyond both sight and sound.

CHAPTER XIII

SEEKING THE UNDERGROUND

Every moment of progress tended to increase my confidence in Sam's
loyalty. His every attention