Truth to till, I was jist about mentionin' it to ye whin ye
spoke," Jimmie declared.

"H'm. Well, I've been figuring it out this way. There's a distinct
current setting out of this big creek. You can see that by the way our
boat hangs with her bow upstream. All right. Then it stands to reason
that that piece of waste was thrown over at some point _above_. And
then again, it looks as if the other craft might be a motor boat, for
some one has been wiping the engine off. There was fresh oil on that
waste. I could see it passing off on the surface of the water."

Jimmie fairly gasped in his great surprise.

"Did I iver hear the loike?" he said. "Next ye'll be tillin' me the
kind of boat it is, I'm thinkin'. Looky here, Jack, ye don't guess now
that it could be that same dhirty craft that was spoken of in the
newspaper--the one as looked like the dear ould _Tramp_?"

"Oh! there would hardly be one chance in twenty of that happening,"
laughed the other. "Just think of both boats picking out this very
creek, of the scores there may be south of St. Louis? Oh! that would
be too funny for anything. It's just a plain motor boat, I reckon; and
those aboard don't want to make our acquaintance any more than we do
theirs. So there you are."

Jack pretended to dismiss the idea lightly; but nevertheless it
remained with him during the balance of that evening, to give him more
or less cause for speculation and anxiety.

At nine he bade Jimmie go to sleep, as he would sit up until eleven,
when he promised to awaken the other. So the Irish lad, confident that
no evil would befall them while Jack stood watch, curled up in his
blanket, and presently his heavy breathing announced that he had found
solace in slumber.

Promptly at eleven Jack aroused him, and handing over the gun, with
positive directions that he was to be called if anything suspicious
arose, he in turn took to his blanket on the bottom of the cockpit of
the boat.

Why, it seemed that he had hardly lost his senses when he felt Jimmie
shaking him. Just as before the Irish boy was whispering in his ear.

"Wake up, Jack; there's a boat comin' this way!" was what he heard.

"Why," replied the skipper, as he bounced up, "it sounds as if it might
be coming in from the river! I can hear the stroke of oars, a lot of
them, too."

As the two boys poked their heads out of the canvas cover that served
as a tent over the open boat, they could easily see the a