on to balk every effort my mother might make to find
me. I inquired for letters at the post-offices in Buffalo, Syracuse,
Albany and Tempe at every chance, but finally gave up in despair.

2

I had only one hope, and that was to find the hump-backed man with the
black beard--the man Rucker was talking to on the boat we had passed on
our voyage eastward before I found my home deserted. This was a very
slim chance, but it was all there was left. Captain Sproule had noticed
him, and said he had seen him a great many times before. He was a land
agent, who made it a business to get emigrants to go west, away up the
lakes somewhere.

"If your stepfather had any money," said the captain, "you can bet that
hunchback tried to bamboozle him into some land deal, and probably did.
And if he did, he'll remember him and his name, and where he left the
canal or the Lakes, and maybe where he located."

"I must watch for him," I said.

"We'll all watch for him," said the captain.

Paddy was not with us the next summer; but Bill was, and so was Ace,
with whom I was now on the best of terms. We all agreed to keep our eyes
peeled for a hunchback with a black beard. Bill said he'd spear him with
a boathook as soon as he hove in sight for fear he'd get away. Ace was
sure the hunchback was a witch[3] who had spirited off my folks; and
looked upon the situation without much hope. He would agree to sing out
if he saw this monster; but that was as far as he would promise to
help me.

[3] "Witch" in American dialect is of the common gender. "Wizard" has no
place in the vocabulary.--G.v.d.M.

The summer went by with no news and no hunchback; and that winter I
stayed with an aunt of Captain Sproule's, taking care of her stock. I
got five dollars a month, and my keep, but no schooling. She wanted me
to stay the summer with her, and offered me what was almost a man's
wages; which shows how strong I was getting, and how much of a farmer I
was. I did stay and helped through the spring's work; but on Captain
Sproule's second passing of Mrs. Fogg's farm, I joined him, not as a
driver, but as a full hand. I kept thinking all the time of my mother,
and felt that if I kept to the canal I surely should find some trace of
her. In this I was doing what any detective would have done; for
everything sooner or later passed through the Erie Canal--news, goods
and passengers. But I had little hope when I thought of the flood which
surged back and forth th