k.

"Lucky for him, you mean. I'll take the oars," added Carrington as he
entered the skiff.

Slowly the clearing lifted out of the darkness, then the keel boat
became distinguishable; and Carrington checked the skiff by a backward
stroke of the oars.

"Hello!" he called.

There was no immediate answer to his hail, and he called again as he
sent the skiff forward. He felt that he was risking all now.

"What do you want?" asked a surly voice.

"You want Slosson!" quickly prompted the girl in a whisper.

"I want to see Slosson!" said Carrington glibly and with confidence, and
once more he checked the skiff.

"Who be you?"

"Murrell sent you," prompted the girl again, in a hurried whisper.

"Murrell--" And in his astonishment Carrington spoke aloud.

"Murrell?" cried the voice sharply.

"--sent me!" said Carrington quickly, as though completing an unfinished
sentence. The girl laughed nervously under her breath.

"Row closter!" came the sullen command, and the Kentuckian did as he was
bidden. Four men stood in the bow of the keel boat, a lantern was
raised aloft and by its light they looked him over. There was a moment's
silence broken by Carrington, who asked:

"Which one of you is Slosson?" And he sprang lightly aboard the keel
boat.

"I'm Slosson," answered the man with the lantern. The previous night Mr.
Slosson had been somewhat under the enlivening and elevating influence
of corn whisky, but now he was his own cheerless self, and rather
jaded by the passing of the hours which he had sacrificed to an irksome
responsibility. "What word do you fetch from the Captain, brother?" he
demanded.

"Miss Malroy is to be taken down river," responded Carrington. Slosson
swore with surpassing fluency.

"Say, we're five able-bodied men risking our necks to oblige him!
You can get married a damn sight easier than this if you go about it
right--I've done it lots of times." Not understanding the significance
of Slosson's allusion to his own matrimonial career, Carrington held his
peace. The tavern-beeper swore again with unimpaired vigor. "You'll find
mighty few men with more experience than me," he asserted, shaking his
head. "But if you say the word--"

"I'm all for getting shut of this!" answered Carrington promptly, with
a sweep of his arm. "I call these pretty close quarters!" Still shaking
his head and muttering, the tavernkeeper sprang ashore and mounted the
bank, where his slouching figure quickly lost