such a moment might
never come again. Holding open the door until she had passed through, he
closed it behind them and stumbled into a whirling gust of rain that
stung and chilled him to a better mastery of himself. Opportunity had
knocked in vain.

"Our friends, the pilots, will not be good company on a day like this,"
he said, gripping the rail and interposing his body between her and the
gusts. "The gangplank's out, but there seems to be a lack of warmth in
its invitation. Suppose we go around on the other side?"

On the river side of the boat they found shelter against the slanting
rain and were soon comfortably seated against the cabin wall, wrapped in
the blankets he had coaxed from his friend, the purser.

"Just look at that fury of wind and water!" exclaimed Patience. "I
wonder where that little keelboat is by now?"

"Oh, it's scooting along like a sled down an icy slope," he answered,
hoping that it had escaped the hungry maw of the great whirlpool off
Clay Point. "They must have urgent reasons for driving ahead like that.
It must be an express from the upper Missouri posts to St. Louis.
McKenzie probably wants to get word to Chouteau before the fur company's
steamboat starts up the river. Or it may be the urging of the thrill
that comes with gambling with death."

Behind them Uncle Joe poked his head out of the cabin door and regarded
them curiously. Satisfied that troublesome topics no longer were being
discussed he moved forward slowly.

"Oh, here you are," he said, as though making a discovery. "I thought I
might find you out here. Captain Newell ain't fit company for a savage
wolf this morning. Have you heard how long we're going to be tied up?"

Tom drew a chair toward him and looked up invitingly. "Sit down, Mr.
Cooper. Why, I understand we will stay here all day and night." He
understood the other man's restlessness and anxiety about the wait, but
did not sympathize with him. The longer they were in making the
river-run the better he would be suited.

Uncle Joe glanced out over the wild water. "Oh, well," he sighed. "If we
must, then we must. That river's quite a sight; looks a lot worse than
it is. Hello! What's our reverend friend doing down there? Living in the
hold?" He chuckled. "If he is, it's a poor day to come up for air."

They followed his glance and beheld a tall, austere, long-faced
clergyman emerging from the forward hatch, and behind him came the pilot
with whom they had talked