nd went to look at the engines, which
were connected directly to the huge paddle wheel. The engineer was
getting ready to climb into his bunk, but he smoked a pipe with his
visitor and chatted for a few minutes. Tom knew what it meant to be an
engineer on a Missouri river packet and he did not stay long. He knew
that his host scarcely took his hand from the throttle for a moment
while the boat was moving, for he had to be ready to check her instantly
and send her full speed astern. The over-worked system of communication
between the pilot house and the engine room had received its share of
his attention during his runs on the river.

He next went forward along the main deck and looked at the boilers, the
heat from them distinctly pleasing. As he turned away he heard and felt
the impact from another great, trimmed log slipping along the faint,
gray highway. Some careless woodcutter upstream had worked in vain. He
stopped against the rail and looked at the scurrying water only a few
feet below him, listening to its swishing, burbling complaints as it
eddied along the hull, seeming in the darkness to have a speed
incredible. A huge cottonwood with its upflung branches and sunken
roots paused momentarily as it struck a shallow spot, shivered, lost a
snapping dead limb, collected a surprising amount of debris as it swung
slowly around and tore free from the clutching mud of the bottom and,
once more acquiring momentum, shot out of sight into the night, its
slowly rising branches telling of the heavy roots sinking to their
proper depth. Next came a tree stump like some huge squid, which must
have been well dried out and not in the water for very long, else it
would have found the bottom before this. Then a broken and waterlogged
keelboat, fully twenty-five feet long, scurried past, a great menace to
every boat afloat. Planks, rails from some pasture fence, a lean-to
outhouse, badly smashed, and a great mass of reeds and brush came along
like a floating island. The constantly changing procession and the gray
water fascinated him and he fairly had to tear himself away from it.
Strange splashings along the bank told him of undermined portions of it
tumbling into the river, and a louder splash marked the falling of some
tree not far above.

"She's talkin' a-plenty tonight," said a rough voice behind him and he
turned, barely able to make out a figure dressed much the same as he
was; but he did not see another figure, in Mexican