canallers--and I guess not
so rough.

I was sorry, many a time, on the voyage, that I had not taken passage on
a steamer, as I saw boats going by us in clouds of smoke that left
Buffalo after we did; but we had a good voyage, and after seeing
Detroit, Mackinaw and Milwaukee, we anchored in Southport harbor so late
that the captain hurried on to Chicago to tie up for the winter. I had
nearly three hundred dollars in a belt strapped around my waist, and
some in my pocket; and went ashore after bidding Bill good-by--I never
saw the good fellow again--and began my search for John Rucker. I did
not need to inquire at Mr. Wisner's office, and I now think I probably
saved money by not going there; for I found out from the proprietor of
the hotel that Rucker, whom he called Doc Rucker, had moved to Milwaukee
early in the summer.

"Friend of yours?" he asked.

"No," I said with a good deal of emphasis; "but I want to find
him--bad!"

"If you find him," said he, "and can git anything out of him, let me
know and I'll make it an object to you. An' if you have any dealings
with him, watch him. Nice man, and all that, and a good talker, but
watch him."

"Did you ever see his wife?" I inquired.

"They stopped here a day or two before they left," said the
hotel-keeper. "She looked bad. Needed a doctor, I guess--a
different doctor!"

There was a cold northeaster blowing, and it was spitting snow as I went
back to the docks to see if I could get a boat for Milwaukee. A steamer
in the offing was getting ready to go, and I hired a man with a skiff
to put me and my carpet-bag aboard. We went into Milwaukee in a howling
blizzard, and I was glad to find a warm bar in the tavern nearest the
dock; and a room in which to house up while I carried on my search. I
now had found out that the stage lines and real-estate offices were the
best places to go for traces of immigrants; and I haunted these places
for a month before I got a single clue to Rucker's movements. It almost
seemed that he had been hiding in Milwaukee, or had slipped through so
quickly as not to have made himself remembered--which was rather odd,
for there was something about his tall stooped figure, his sandy beard,
his rather whining and fluent talk, and his effort everywhere to get
himself into the good graces of every one he met that made it easy to
identify him. His name, too, was one that seemed to stick in
people's minds.

5

At last I found a man who freig