ooking, and I offered him a dollar if he would
put me on board of her. He accepted my proposition so good-naturedly
that I concluded the boat was coming up to the town; but she did not,
and he put me into a bateau, and pulled off to her. At first she would
not stop.

"Great news!" I shouted, at the top of my lungs.

Curiosity did what good-nature would not, and the boat stopped her
wheels long enough for me to jump on her deck.

"What do you mean by great news?" demanded a gentleman, who, I soon
found, was the captain. "Did you say that to make me stop the boat? If
you did, I'll heave you overboard."

"No, sir; I did not," I replied, with becoming promptness after the
threat he had used.

"What's your great news, then?" demanded he.

"Do you know what two steamers went up the river about two or three
hours ago?" I asked.

"Certainly I do--the River Queen No. 4 and the Centurion. They passed me
this morning. But what's your news, boy?"

"The Centurion blew up about seven o'clock, as she was going into the
Ohio River."

"The Centurion!" exclaimed he.

"Yes, sir."

"Is that so, or are you making up this story?"

"It is true, sir. I saved a young lady who was a passenger. I left her
below this village, and I want to go up and find out whether her mother
was lost, or not."

"What is her name?"

"Emily Goodridge."

"Goodridge? Do you know her father's name?"

I looked at my paper, and found the name was Edward F. Goodridge.

"He is one of the heaviest merchants in New Orleans," added the captain,
thoughtfully.

My news proved to be all I had represented it, and I was plied with
questions which I could not answer, by the passengers interested in the
fate of those on board of the unfortunate steamer. I could only tell
them that the boat had been blown all to pieces, and that there was
plenty of assistance at hand to save those who were thrown into the
water.

In less than an hour my news was fully confirmed on the arrival of the
steamer at Cairo. We were informed that the River Queen No. 4 was still
there, with the survivors of the disaster on board, and I hastened to
find her.

CHAPTER XXI.

FLORA AND HER PATIENT.

There was no difficulty, in finding the River Queen No. 4, for she was
the centre of a circle of melancholy interest, and a crowd of people had
gathered on the levee to hear the latest tidings of woe from her cabin,
now changed into a hospital. I care not to dwell upon the sad