the Texas trembled as the boat
came up under the high pressure of steam.

The lights of Wansaw were just around the bend. Jenkins blew a long
blast for the little town. The sound echoed and re-echoed among the
wooded hills. The farmer in his bed on the silent shore turned on his
pillow as the deep, sonorous sound fell upon his ear--the sweet, weird
music of the stream.

Jenkins made the landing, and heading his boat for the middle of the
river, made a long crossing for the Indiana shore.

"It's a fine night," said Turpin.

"Beautiful," said Jenkins.

He turned and gazed toward the stern of his boat as she swung into the
clear and squared herself for the point of the bend. The moonbeams
glittered and danced on the waves in the wake of the steamer, and the
rays touched the snow on the hills with diamond sparks. The tall
sycamores on either side stood clearly outlined against the wintry sky,
and the white corn-shocks on the distant ridge were silhouetted like
Indian wigwams. Here and there a light glimmered from some cabin window,
and a dog barked defiance at the boat as it sped up stream.

"The States ought to be about due," said Turpin.

"I think I hear her now," said Jenkins.

When they got up to the point of the bend where they could see up the
river, they saw the States coming down. From her forward smoke-stacks
were the signal lights of emerald green and ruby red, trembling in
delicate brilliancy against the background of silvery sky. The splash of
her ponderous wheels as they churned the water, seemed to vibrate into a
song of gathering power. When the two boats were about eight hundred
yards apart, Jenkins turned to Turpin and said, "Blow two blasts; I'll
take the left side." Turpin sounded the blasts, and Jenkins headed for
the Indiana shore. Jacob Remlin, the pilot on the States, blew one blast
of his whistle just as Turpin sounded the first signal on the America.
Jenkins on the America, did not hear Remlin's one signal, because it
sounded at the same time of the first signal from the America. Remlin on
the States, heard the last one of the signals from the America, taking
it for an answer to his own signal, and he also headed his boat for the
Indiana shore. Both men violated the rules of signals. Remlin should
not have blown any signal until he heard from the up-stream boat, and
Jenkins, not hearing any signal from the States, should have stopped his
boat. Jenkins was standing on the starboard side, tha