ediately afterward, he tore aside the curtain, he and his
assistance presented pistols and shouted:

"Surrender!"

No one was visible, and the sheriff only concealed his sheepish feelings
by jumping into the room. His assistants followed him, and they searched
the entire house without finding any one.

They searched the cellar, the outhouses, and the barn, but encountered
only the inquiring glances of the horses and cattle. Then they searched
the house anew, hoping to find proof of the guilt of Matalette and his
family; but, excepting holes in the floor of a vacant room, they found
nothing which might not be expected in a comfortable home.

Suddenly some one thought of the boats which Matalette kept at the mouth
of the creek, and a detachment, headed by the sheriff, went hastily down
to examine them.

The boats were gone--not even the tiniest canoe or most dilapidated
skiff remained. It is grievous to relate--but truth is truth--that the
sheriff, who was on Sundays a Sabbath-school superintendent, now lost
his temper and swore frightfully. But no boats were conjured up by the
sheriff's language, nor did his assistance succeed in finding any up the
creek; so the party returned to the house, and resorted to the illegal
measure of helping themselves liberally to the contents of Matalette's
sideboard.

Meanwhile a black mass, floating down the Wabash, about a dozen miles
below the Bonpas's mouth, seemed the cause of some mysterious plunging
and splashing in the river. Finally an aperture appeared in the black
mass, and the light streamed out. Then the figure of a man appeared in
the aperture, and all was dark again.

As the figure disappeared within the mass, three bearded men, dressed
like emigrants, looked up furtively, one yellow-haired man stared
vacantly and sadly into the fire which illumed the cabin of the little
trading boat, while Helen Matalette sprang forward and threw her arms
about the figure's neck.

"It's all gone, Nell," said the man. "Presses and plates are where
nobody will be likely to find them. The Wabash won't tell secrets."

"I'm so glad--_oh_, so glad!" cried the girl.

"It's a fortune thrown away," said one of the men, moodily.

"Yes, and a bad name, too," said she, with flashing eyes.

"We're beggars for life, anyhow," growled another of the men.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Matalette. "Nell's right--if we're not tracked and
caught, I'll never be sorry that we sunk the accursed business fo