ld you that night? Before many weeks there's going to be a chance
for men like us to make our fortunes as easy as floating down the
Mississip."

The jealous eye of Mex was constantly dartling, and her ear was alert
to catch every syllable Pierce uttered. She paid no attention to
Sheldrake, who responded guardedly to his chief's overtures.

"Captain, if you know a safer way, I'd like to learn it. Now that the
army is at Fort Adams, and soldiers is comin' and goin' from St. Louis
to Orleans, we can't do nothin' widout bein' found out by Gen'l
Wilkinson."

"Wilkinson," growled Pierce, with an oath. "Do you suppose I am afraid
of his big names, 'General' and 'Governor'? Jimmy Wilkinson owes me
money, and he owes me an apology, and he's got to come down from his
high horse, or I'm a liar. Eh? Sheldrake, did you ever hear anybody
call me a liar? Did you, Mex? Did you, Sott? ever hear any one say
Burke Pierce was a liar or a foot-licker?"

"I'd hate to be in the place of the man that 'u'd dare," swore
Cacosotte, hastily. He had noticed the excessive drinking, with dread
of the probable consequence.

"I guess you would hate to rile me up even if you was a great general,
dressed in uniform, and with gold epaulettes and buttons all over. I
want to say to you, Abe, and you, Sott, and _you_ over there smoking
your pipe, you raw recruit--I've got in my pocket, what will bring
the brigadier to terms. Bet your souls on it! Bet your black hair,
Mex! Say, you raw recruit, where's your pal? Where's the feller you
said wanted to join us? Open you jaws!"

"He is down on the boat," said the sullen man, rising and emptying his
pipe. "I'll go hunt him."

"You'll be back and bunk here, or will you sleep on one of the boats?"
asked Cacosotte.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll come back and bunk here."

The night was advancing, and the great white owls were beginning a
dismal hooting in the cypress trees. Upon reaching the place where the
boats were moored to the bushy shore of the bayou, Turlipe called:

"Hello, are you there?"

A man scrambled up the bank in response to the call. The two Spaniards
sat upon the bank of the bayou, and held a long consultation in their
native language. It was eleven o'clock when Pepillo, alias Turlipe,
arose to go back to the tavern.

"You needn't come along, Vexeranno; I can do the job without help.
Only stay here and wait. Have the skiff ready to carry us down stream
as fast as we can row. I m