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Copyrighted, 1891, by BIADLI Ann Anna.

 

P bli h d kl
No. 397. 35-3.; ‘1 '20333143233;mm”  V01. xxxr.

Tip Tressell, the Flatboat Boy.

 

BY EDWARD WILLETT.

THE FIRST BLOW HAD EABDLY TOUCHED THE BOY‘S BACK WHEN BINDALS SPRUNG FROM THE STEERINGJBENCE.

 

 

‘ ‘ I Tip [Tree-ell, the Floater.

 

Tip Tressell,
THE 'FLATBoAT BOY;

on,
BILLY KEHOE'S REVENGE.

BY EDWARD WILLETT,
AUTHOR OF “WIDE-AWAKE GEORGE, THE
BOY PIONEER," “SHARP sm, THE
LAD WITH A LEVEL HEAD,"

ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER I.
AFLOAT ON THE MISSISSIPPI.

A 1.06 was floating on the muddy water of
the Mississippi, some distance below the
mouth of the Ohio.

It was evidently a saw-log, the product of
some Wisconsin pinery, that had been lost
from a raft many miles up the river, and it
had not yet become sufficiently water-soaked
to’lose its buoyancéy. '

In itself it won] not have been an attract-
ive object, except to some stra boatman
with a grapple and 'a tow rope, i there had
not been a bit of human life associated with
it. ,

This bit of human life was a boy, some
fifteen or sixteen years of age, who sat
, astride the leg as it floated, and partly con-
trolled its course with a piece of board that
he used as a paddle.

He was a bright young fellow to look at,
and the expression of daring and resolution
that he carried in his face added interest to
his sunbrowncd features. His tattered straw
hat covered a head of raven black hair,
‘ which fell over his forehead, but did not
conceal his large, dark e es. The rest of his
apparel, as far as it coul be seen out of the
water, was scanty and not a little ragged.

But the matter of clothes was one that in-
terested him very little at that moment, as he
was mainly occupied in sticking to his log
and directing its movements.

How did he happen to be there? ,

To explain that point the reader must
travel backward a couple of weeks or so,
gusto a point near. the head-waters of the

 

 

o. .,

The boy and the log represented the upper
portions of two great rivers, widely sepa-
rated at their sources, and they had come to-
gether, as the watersof the two rivers do,
after a lon ourney. .

On the est Virginia side of the upper
Ohio, and scarcely more than a rod from the
1‘ crumbling bank of the river, stands a cabin.

It is a mere shanty. containing but one small

.‘i‘

 

room, rudely built of logs, and nearly in
ruins at that. The door hardly han s on its
hinges, and the one shutter has been arded
up, as the easiest we of mending it.

The proprietor, a air sample of the genus
squatter, is seated on a block in front of the
shanty, cleaning an old~fashioned rifle.

B name he is Abe Trotter, and by pro-
fession, when he deigns to do an hin but
haunt the cross-roads “ doggeries ’ and rink
“blaze face," he is a hunter and a fisher-
man. The rifle indicates the one occupation,
and a long "trot line,” stretched between
two trees, and with large hooks dangling at
regular intervals, speaks of the other.

As for farming, that is beneath the notice
of Abe Trotter. He cultivatesa few “truck
patches," such as he can easil manage
withoutthe use of a horse, and it is precious
little care that they get.

Lyin in the sun near .the cabin are two
tall an gaunt dogs, of no recognized breed
except the “yaller dog" variety, but they
are Abe Trotter‘s special pets, as one of them
is a “ heavy coon dog," andthe other has the
reputation of being the best woodchuck dog
in the district.

They are of far more importance in Abe’s
eyes than a human specimen, in the shape of
a boy, who is seated on the grass, fondling a
hound puppy.

But the b0 attracts his attention after a
while, the ri e havin been put in order, and
he looks up and spea to him, bending his
sha rgy eyebrows.

“ 1p. my boy, it’s played on .”

" What’s pla ed out, Abe?” asks the boy,
liftin his big, old, black eyes.

“ ou an’ me, Tip. I’ve took good keer of

3,1,1, now, gwine on these many years—hain‘t

“ Tol'able,” briefly YEPlled the boy.

" Wal, I don’t pretcn to be the Emp‘ror of
Roosby, nor even a hotel-keeper to W heelin‘,
but I’ve gi‘n yer a shelter an fodder an’ suth-
in’ to wear, as long as the money belt out,
ag’ .rgpwit’s gone, and I mean to send you
a H .’

(1“ Who paid the money i” quickly demand-

e T1 .

"VShy, yer dad. Leastways, I' reckon he
was {Var dad.”

“ hat 'came of him? Where is he now?"

"Durned if I know. He lit out. It ain’t
likely that you or I will ever set eyes on him
ag‘ n.’

The boy looked down moodily, and it was

a few minutes before he spoke again.

“ Reckon he was ashamed 0’ me,” he said.
“But I tell you, Abe, he can’t be a bit more
ashamed 0’ me than I am 0’ him. How do
you allow to send me adrift. old man?"

 

 

 

Abe Trotter looked out on the smooth and
shining river. The “ spring rise " was com-
ing on, and the Ohio was nearly bank full
and rising; a fleet of coal boats was coming
down, and the “broadborns,” with their
cargoes of hay, pottery, staves, and other up-
-ceuntry merchandise, were beginning to
flolat out from the Allegheny and Mononga-
he a. .

“ Thar’s the river,” he said, “an’ thar’s
boats on it. It’s easier to go down than to
go up, an' that's as good a way to agart as
any.” .

The boy said nothing. Evidently he had
become accustomed to taking life as he found
it.

“That's all fur now," continued Abe, as
he rose and shouldered his rifle. “l'm
gwine over to the cross-roads a bit. You
stay eer, Tip, an’ look arter the dorgs.”

" 00k out that you don’t git b’ihn’ full,
old man,” was ’l‘ip‘s parting admonition.

About two miles from the cabin at the
river was a cross-roads “ doggery," kept b
Garret Dyckman, a descendant of the old
Holland emigrants, who had “scooped in ”
many an acre and dollar from the other in-
habitants by a process of slow oisoning.
But his esta lishmcnt was still on y a rough
board shanty, with a small house at the rear.

Abe Trotter was a well-known customer,
if not a regular one, at Dyckman‘s place,

' and when he entered the shanty the landlord

stepped to the bar to supply his wants.

“Gimme a stiff hem o’ applejack, Garret,"
said the squatter, “ an’ hang it up for a day
or so. ”

Dyckman’s face expressed a positive refu-
sal of this request, and he informed Trotter
that he could “hang up” nothing more
there until he aid what he owed.

" Jest one orn," pleaded Abe. “ I’m
kinder shaky today, an’ I‘ve got a big matter
to think about.”

“ That's played out, Abe Trotter.”

A man who had been sitting in a corner of
the room rose and approached the bar, gazin
intently at Trotter, and step in" forwar
briskly when the name of t e llatter was
spoken. ,

He was a tall and muscular man, with
black hair and eyes and a swarth complex-
ion. His apparel was unusually ne for that
region, and a broad fo’t but added pictur-
esqucness to his appearance.

"Let him have what he wants, landlord,
and I will pay for it," said this man.

Dyckman set eat glasses, and Abe Trotter
fell back to stare at this welcome intruder.
tiHis stare. was followed by a look of recogni-

on. I ,

“ Is it reallyyou?" he exclaimed. “ Who‘

 

Tip Tron-ell. the Floater. 3 . ‘

ha’ thought 0’ comin’ up on you, or all men
in the world?"

“Drink your li uor and haul in the slack
of your jaw,” rep icd the stranger. “I want ’
to have a little talk with you.”

Trotter gul ed down his applejack and
followed his ligeral friend out of the shanty.

They crossed the road and sat down on a
log in the shade.

" Jest the worry man I was a—studyin‘
about,” remarked Abe.

“ Never mind that. How is the boy?"

“Oh, he's all ri ht, an' it was, him I was
we in’ about. told him this mornin’
that ‘d kep‘ him as long as I could an’ meant
to send him adrift."

“ Where would you send him, and how?"

“ Down the river, I reckon. Thar’s plenty
of boats runnin’ now, an’ it's a long v’yge.”

“ He would be likely, then, to bring up
man miles from here?’

“ own to Orleans, I should say, or thar-
abouts.”

“That’s the best thing you can do, Abe
Trotter. Send him adrift as soon as you
please, and then forget him.”

The squatter looked up at
with a knowing twist in his eye.

“That’s a boss of another color,” he re-
marked. “I ain't a good hand at forgittin',
and it mought worry me to forgit suthin’
that has took a strong holt onto me.” .

“Perhaps it might, and the worry would
beworth somethin . I will give you fifty -
dollars in cash to c ose out the business, and
you are to ship off the boy and forget him.”

“ It's a barg‘in. But I want yer to onder-
stand, mister, thatil've done the best I could
by the boy. He‘d ha’ had a better show if
111 old woman had lived. But she dropped'
0 so suddent and queer-like that it upset ,
things. It was some three year arter you
left the boy with us that she went down to
the river to git a bucket 0’ water, an’ she‘
never come back. I went down to look alter
her an’ the bucket was settin’ thar full, but
no Nancy. .I reckon she must ha' tumbled
into the river, an' the current carried her 01!,
an’ that was the last of Nancy Trotter. That
upsot things a heap.”

the stranger

“ It was a bad job for you, I suppose," re~ 

plied the stranger. “ But it was no fault of
mine, and you needn’t drag up that sort of 1
thing now. Here is your money, Abe.

He counted out five crisp ten-dollar bills,
and rose from the log. ‘

“ We are quits now, Abe Trotter,” he said.
“ Forget the boy, and forget me.”

He crossed the road, unhitched a tine bay
horse, and rode away. I -

Abe Trotter sthfl the bills into his pocket,

and returned to~Dyclnnan’s doggery.

 

yrs,

 

Tip Treason, the Floater.

 

   
 

CHAPTER II.
mm AND DEATH ON A BROADHORN.

IT was late at night when Abe ’l‘rotter got
back to the cabin by the river, the moon giv-
r w ing him scarcely light enough to pick his un‘

?‘ certain wa .

7' “1 Late as it was, Ti and the dogs were there
if“ waiting for him, an the boy helped him into
1"” the cabin.

“80, old man, you did go and it b‘ilin’
full,” remarked Tip, as he steadied is guar-
dian‘s steps. “ Now you have got to turn
in‘and sleep it ofi.”

But Abe Trotter had not yet reached the
stupid stage of intoxication. .

“ Hold a bit, Tippy, my boy.” said he.
“Gimme my pipe, an‘ lemme take a smoke

. , fust.”
 As he smoked he talked in a maudlin man-
} ner, leer-ing at the boy with half-closed eyes.
“I’ve been a great friend to you, Tip,” he
said. “ If my old woman hadn‘t drop ed
of! you mought ha’ had a better time; at
I’ve done my best. I’ve taught yer to swim,
an’ shoot, an' fish, an’ hunt coons an’ wood-

-clrucks, an’ make yerself useful. Yes, Tip,

I’ve done the fa’r thing b yer, an’ have took

* / a big likin’ to yer, an’ it’ 1 be powerful lone-
some when you’s gone. But I’ve got to ship
yer 01f an’ forgitfyer. Them’s his orders, an’
w’ot he paid me ur.” 

“ Whose orders? Who paid you?” eagerly
demanded the boy.

I“ Why, the man who, brought you here-—
your dad, I reckon.”

“ When did you see him? Where did you
seahim '2" -

“ This mornin’; at Dyckman’s."

 

an:

“ He is alive and about, then. What does
: he look like?" ‘
T " A big, tall man. Black haired and dark

faced, like you.”

n “ And he paid you to ship me off? What
’ more did he have to say?"

Abe Trotter half-closed his e es, knocked
the ashes out of his pipe, and r0 led over into
his bunk. \

“ You don’t git nothin’ mere out 0’ me,
Ti ,” said he. “ I've told yer all thar is to
tel , an’ it’s enough fur yer to know."

“ I don't care,’ replied the boy. “ Them
as don’t like me can leave me alone, and I
won’t worry ’em." -

In spite of his hea drinking Abe Trotter
wasup at daylight t e next morning. Af-
ter refreshin himself by a plunge in the
cool water 0 the Ohio, he took his rifle, and
sallied out into the torest, returning shortly
with a buck that he had killed.

Tip had prepared breakfast, which was

 

'3. > /
. to the rivsraadplaced in the skifl.

    

 

‘ soon eaten, and the back was carried dowanm and we men know in “d mm m

Then Abe sat on the bank and Watched
the big flatboats that occasionally, came
floating down the river, singl or in groups,
until he fixed his eye on a roadhorn that
suited his purpose, and he made Tip pull
the skiff out to her.

She was loaded with stavcs,and seemed to
be fully manned; but Abe did not hesitate to
propose an addition to her crew in the per—
son of Tip.

The commander of the broadhorn refused
the offer. He had plenty of men, and did
not wish to be bothered with he s.

“But this is a fine boy,” he insisted.
“He kin cook an’ make hisself the usefulest
kind. He, wants to go on the river to hunt
his fortun’, and you ma have this deer-
meat, and I‘ve got a few ollars to throw in-
ter the barg’in.’

The result of the negotiations was that
Abe Trotter returned to his cabin alone, and
gip floated down the Ohio on the stave

oat. *»

At first the boy found his new life quite a
pleasant one, mainly because it was new.

here was not much adventure or excitement
in floating down the placid Ohio, and his
duties—he had been appointed cook of the
craft—were rather monotonous; but it was
better than living alone with Abe Trotter in
that lonesome cabin.

But the disagreeable side of flatboating
soon made itself manifest to the lad. As a
boy, and among strangers, he was not treated
too well b an of the crew, and the evident
desire of be rotter to get rid of him made
them look down upon him as a person who
was only fit to be ordered around and
knocked about.

There were two of the crew who seemed
to have a special spite against him—two
rough fellows, named Merch and Spriggs,
who had been picked up at Allegheny City.

As these. two brutes had been under the
feet of the world the most of theirlives, they
were naturall glad of a chance to tyrannize
over someb , and made the most of the
opportunity w ich Abe Trotter had thrown
in their way. They set themselves at work
to persecute poor Tip and to 've him a
dog’s life to lead. They compe led him to
do a large share of their work in addition to
His own, and curses and kicks and blows
were his lot when he dared to object to this
infustice.

I‘ip complained to " Captain " Dawson as
the commander of the broadhorn was styled,
but found no sympathy in that quarter.

" I guess you'll have to stand it and try to
make the best of it, youn chap," replied
DaWson. " You're a sort 0 a byblow, you
es a
ditl'erenee."

\

. .-~., gr.

1

i:

v.

 

s—dh-I-F a.

 

- , ~.._..__,T,.’

‘adan

_river.

" What is a byblo‘w i" asked Tip.

“I thought ever body knew that. You
don't know your athcr, and your father
don’t want to know you, and nobody is will-

in' to own you, and that makes you a cut- :

loose sort of a character.”

Tip understood that he was somethin‘
that everybody had a right to despise, and
was humiliated b the thou rht, but was not

any more reconci ed to the increasing perse- I

cutions of Merch and Spriggs.

The fourth man of the crew was Jesse
Siddals, a tall lumberman from the interior
of Pennsylvania, who did not seem to be an
ill-natured sort of a fellow, though he was
in the habit of treating Tip contemptuously.

As the persecutions of the two brutes in-
creased Jesse Siddals began to frown upon
them, and one night, shortly after the flat-
boat had floated into the swift current of the
Mississippi, there was a quarrel between him
and March.

Merch had Tip by,the collar and was cuf-
fing him for no cause, when Siddals, who
was on the steering bench, ordered him to
leave the boy alone. .

The brute looked up in amazement, his
surprise at first exceeding his anger, and Tip
wrig led out of his grasp and ran away.

“ on have abuse
ready, Dan Merch, and you’ve got to quit
it,” said the tall lumbcrtnan. , '

“ When didyou git to be my 13,088, you big
scarecrow?" ' j.

“I don't pretend to be a boss, but I say
you’ve got to quit abusin’ that boy. I won t
stand by and see it done any longer."

“ You may sit down, then, or lie down, or
take it in any shape you want to, but I mean
to give that young scalawag a bastin‘ when-
ever I feel hke it."

“ Not when I am around, Dan Merch."

“ That is the very time I shall pick to do
it, and it won’t be safe for you to meddle
with me. ”

Merch was as ood'as his word. The next
night he dragge Tip up on the roof of the
boat and prepared to flog him with a cruel-
lookin leather strap.

Bid 5 stood on the steering-bench and
fBpriggs lay on the roof, ready to watch “ the

un.

The first blow had hardly touched the boy’s
back when Siddals sprang from the steering-
bench, seized the brute by the collar, jerked
him loose from Tip and threw him violently

But March was instantly on his feet, with
rous knife gleaming in his hand.

Sid was just as uick with his knife,
and otters few passes e struck the other’s
weapon horn his grasp, knocking it into the

that boy too much al- I

Tip Tron-ell. the Floater. I I

i Ap arcntly he did not care to follow up
his a( vantage, and ran to regain the steering-
oar, the head of which had veered to the
ed c of the boat.

s he did this 'l‘ip saw something that
' sharply attracted his attention.

Dan Merch was standing u , and some-
thing gleamed in his right han .
a knife, and it was pointed toward Siddals.
V Tip sprung forward with a cry, hoping to
. protect his friend and champion, but he was
‘ too late. There was a flash and a report,

and Siddals, without a word, fell over into
the river.

The boy ran up on the steering-bench and
looked over the side of the flatboat, but he
saw only the dark and eddying water. The

suddcnness of the disappearance of Siddals _

' shocked him so that he could scarcely stir.

As it happened the scuttle on the roof and -
the report of the pistol had not awakened -
“ Cap " Dawson, and March and his com~
rade perceived that if they should close Tip's

‘ mouth they might account for the loss of
Siddals in their own way.

Theytold the boy that he must hold his ' 
tongue about the matter, or sudden death'

would be his portion. ,

Tip said nothing; but he had already de-
termined upon the course he should pursue.
i IIe climbed down 01! the roof and kept
l

I
,from the stern of the broadhorn into the
river, and silently swam to an island near

It was not ‘

quiet. .
At the darkest hourof the night he slipped '

by, trustin to luck and his swimming abil— .7

E ity to take im to a place of safety.

CHAPTER III. :.
FOUND, A GRANDMOTHER. \ ‘
A FLATBOA’I‘ that was pretty widely known

1 on the lower Mississippi as “The. Search"
was in some respects a very peculiar craft.

! The flatboats mostly in use on the Ohio
and Mississippi rivers were of three descrip-
tions—coal flats, broadhorns and store boats.
The coal flats were large 0 en boxes. The
broadhorns were also large, ut were inclosed
and roofed in. to give shelter to cargoes of.
staves, hay, earthenware and the like. The
store boat was much smaller than these, but
was more carefully constructed. It was a
one-story house set upon a flatboat, arr-an ed»
for living purposes as well as for the disp ay
and sale of merchandise. It was usually
whitewashed, and had a name suggestive of
the business for which it was use

The “ Search " was built in the store-boat,

 

style, but of better material and in a more ‘

costly manner than was customary wi such

a craft. The house on the flatboa was

painted white and supplied with windows-7
, and its interior mmaments were tar more

 

r

v

 

   

  _ 5-.." 3‘ divas”.  u. ;.- .I .1...

 

 

 

Tip Moon, the Planter.

 

elaborate and expensive than those of any
store boat. This mud-turtle craft was, in
fact, a floating dwelling, whose owner pre-
ferred to live upon the water, and had it
fitted it up for that purpose.

As day was breaking in the eastern sky,
the “ Search ” was floating down the Miners-
sip i, between an island and the west bank,

he had a steering—bench across the roof,
and a long steering-oar, similar to those of
other such craft, and on the steering-bench
stood a tall and powerful man, with a Ger-
man cast of features. Near him lounged a
boy, nearly grown, whose face was unmis-
takably Irish.

The intense stillness of the early morning,
before the woods had awoke, was broken by
a cry which came from the direction of the
island at the left.

“ Hello-o-o, the boat!”

The tall man looked toward the island,
and saw a dark object emerging from the
shadow. It was floating with the current,
and at the same time appeared to be pro-

elled more or less in the direction of the flat-

oat.

“ Phwat’s that, Adam?" asked the lad.

“ Dot vas somebody or somet’ings,” slowly
replied the other.

“ If it ain’t somebody, yez may call Mike
Raffertya Dutchman, and sure it's a lift-
handed compliment that would be.”

“ Dot vas besser fer you of you could been
born a Dutchman, my boy. "

“ It’s a man, Adam, or a boy. Look at it
now!"

The dark object had cleared the shadow

' of the island, and was clearly seen to be a
_ log with a perSon astride of it. and again the

hall came across the water.

“ It’s a boy’s voice," said Mike. “ Phwat

' are ez goin’ to do about this, Adam?”

“ ou gets in dot skiff, Mike, und brings

'. dotbo here.”

“ t will she say, Adam?”

“You makes dot boy safe, und der she
Till say vot she vill say. ’

Mike Rafierty jumped into the skiff, and
pulled‘ for the log with awill. In a few

. minutes he returned, bringing a boy some-

what younger and smaller than himself, and
who was very wet.

He shook himself like a dog, and began to
give an explanation of his position.

“D'on’t you talk, sonny, ’ said Adam, lay-

ing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “ Talk is v

cheap, aber it dakes gelt for buyin' dot
visky. Sh ueeze dot vasser out, and come
wit me. ybe she pitch you oferboard
some more, he i” -

\ The boy co d not understand, this at all;

but he silently obeyed orders. and followed _

 

I
his conductor into what may be called the
cabin of the boat.

They passed through a room that was neat-
ly fitted up with‘ sleeping berths. chairs, a
table, and other appliances of comfort. Then
they entered a kitchen, amply and even ele-

antl supplied with everything necessary
or t o culina department of the craft.
Here a fat blue boy, with a shining face,
had just lighted a fire in ahandsome stove.

The boy quietly seated himself in a chair
which the large man pointed out to him, and
the latter passed into another apartment,
closing the door behind him.

In a few minutes he returned, beckoned to
the boy, and led him« into the third room,
where the lad was so astonished by what he
saw that he could do nothing but stand and
stare.

This room was as large as both the others,
occupying about half the boat, and was
sumptuously fitted up and furnished. The
floor was covered with a carpet in which the
feet seemed to sink, the walls were hun
with elegant paintings and engravings, an
the wooden ceiling was finely frescoed.
There was a costly center table, with several
luxurious chairs and a book-case full of
books, and on a cushioned loun at one side
was seated an elderly lady, ric y if not ele-
gently dressed, with lar e diamonds in her
ears, and a profusion 0 jewelry upon her
person.

On the other side of the roan was a very
comfortable-lookin bed; but the black boy
came in, removed t e bed-clothes, and turned
it up, so that it presented the appearance of
a handsome piece of stationar furniture.

The old lady was incline to be portly,
and her hair was gray, and her face, though
not unkindly, was rather severe, like that of
a person who was accustomed to having her
own wa .

“ And, this is the boy, Adam Stacker," said

she.

The tall German nodded.

“ Well, boy, you have been picked up
adrift in the Mississippi, a strange position
for a boy to be placed in. You must tell
me how it happened, and satisfy me that you
mean no harm, or overboard you go again.
What is your name?” '

" Tip, ’ replied the waif.

“ But that is not your full name. There
must be more of it. Tip who?”

“ Tip Tressell," said the boy, who doubted
whether he really owned any name.

The old lady, who had been reclining on
her cushions, started up suddenly. Her pale
face flushed, and her bn' ht blac e es gazed
at Ti as if they wo d read inmost
thoughts.

 

l
I

 

  

Tip Tressell.

 

the Floater. 7

 

" What’s that?” she exclaimed. “ Is that
your real name? Are you sure of it? Tip

“ Dunno, mum.

 

I wasn’t never called;

 

lady,
either
Tressell? Does the Tip stand for Tipton?” l he is my grandson, the son of my lost son

speaking to herself, rather than to
o the others, “the chances are that

Martin. 1 never heard that Martin had mar-

nothin’ but Tip, though Abe Trotter told me ' ried; but that is not at all stran e, and he

that Tressell went with the name.”

“ Look at me, boy! Do you know that I a as he deserted his mother.
lunusual name, and Tipton Tressell is yet

am Eliza Tressell; that this boat is my house,

and that I am traveling up and down the a more unusual.

river, looking for my son who ran away
from me years a o?”
“ Dunno notlun‘ about that, mum.”
“There are many people who know it.

Did any of them put you up to the game of ;

going adrift on the Mississippi, getting picked

up by this boat, and trying to pass yourself}

ofl on me as some sort of a relative?”

“ You are too much for me, mum,” re-
plied Tip. “ I can‘t see what you are tryin’
to git hold of.”

“Adam Stocker, take this boy awa , and
give him some dry clothes. Some of ike’s
ought to do. Then bring him back to me.”

Tip was led away, wondering what sort of
a craft it was that he had happened upon,
and what was the matter with the old lady
who had questioned him so sharply.

 

would be just the man to desert wi e and son
Tressell is an

Tip stands for Tipton, of
husband‘s name was Tipton
Tressell, an Martin must have named the
boy after his father. That shows that he had
some filial feeling left.”

She looked again at Tip, who was taking
all this in with is eyes wide open, wonder-
ing whether he had really found a grand-
mother. He had heard of andmothers,
and envied boys who had t em, but had
never thought it possible that he could ac‘
quire such a treasure.

“ He has Martin's hair and eyes," said the
old lady, “and he has Martin’s free, bold
look. Adam Stocker, I will take him on
trial as a grandson, I am not sure, but I
think he is mine. Martin may have half a
dozen wives and a dozen children, for all I
know. It would be just like him. Adam,

course. M

“Is she crazy?“ he asked, when Adam we will land at Memphis, and we will get

Stocker and Mike Rafferty were
him with the garments he needed.

“Grazy ?” exclaimed the hi
“Dat woman grazy? Mine coo ness cray-
shusl Vas you grazy yoursellef? Dot vo-
man vas got more sense as a shteamboat
pilot.”

(I Be E1
you pic the missus up for a crazy woman,
you’ll drop her like a hot petaty.”

Tip was convinced that she was not crazy
when he was taken back to her. She gave
him a seat in an easy-chair, and encouraged
him to tell his story.

He told it as well as he could. He only
knew that he had always lived, as lon as he
could remember, away up there wit Abe
Trotter; that he had always been known as
Tip; that Abe had told him that his name
was Tressell; that hints had been thrown
out of a man who had left him there and paid
money for his support; and that the man

providing

had lately been inquiring about him and;
His ad— ‘

prompting Abe to turn him adrift.
ventures since he left his rou h
were fresh in his memory, and
them fully and graphically.

guardian
he related

“ Adam Stocker,” said‘ Mrs. Tressell, “ I )

believe the boy speaks the truth. It is a
strap e story that he tells, but he tells it in a
stralg tforward and honest manner. What
do you think?”

‘ I dink so, too, neider.”

"If his story is true," continued the old

 

German. I

some clothes for Tip. It can do no harm,
anyhow, to take care of him. I have not
too many good deeds to bless myself for.”

CHAPTER IV.
mom: or- TIP'S RELATIVES.
IN a front room on the second floor of a

 

hers, me boy,” remarked Mike, “if‘ dingy house in the business part of Mem-
' phis two men were seated.

The suit of rooms was reached by a nar-
‘ row staircase, which was none too clean,
giving them an unpromising approach, but
‘ when the door was opened the visitor would
naturally be surprised to find himself in such
handsome apartments.
; There were two rooms, both nicely fur-
nished and neatly kept. The back room con-
tained a well-fitted bar and the appliances of
a keno “dead-fall." In the front room were
a faro “ lay-out " and tables for other games.
Evidently a gambling den, of neither the
highest nor the lowest class.

As the hour was early the two men who
have been mentioned were the only occu-
pants of the apartments, with the exception
of a colored man, who was lazily handling a
‘ dust brush.

These two were seated at a table, playing
cards, without manifesting much interest in
the game, and it was apparent that they were
playing with each other merely to pass the
time while waiting for victims. _

One of them was a tall, stalwart, swarthy
man of thirty—five or forty. with “sporting

.w,

 
 

-

  

 

\\'

Tip Tree-ell,

o

the Floater.

 

man” plainly written in his features and in
the cut of his clothes. He was known in
the towns along the river as Sam Martin.

The other was “Billy” Kehoe, the pro-
prietor of the lace, a somewhat ounger
man than the ot er, chiefly distinguished by
his heavy watch-chain and immense dia-
mond in.

As e listlessly handled the cards, bet-
ting sin 1 sums “to make the game inter-
esting,” the door opened and a young man
ste ped into the room.

0th the players looked up as he entered,

but took no further notice of him than a

, quick, scrutinizing glance. It was not at
once apparent whether he was a "sucker"
or a “ sharp.”

He was a well-dressed young man, of light
but active build, with an open and fearless
expression of countenance. One would say
that' he was calculated to make his way in

V3 the .wOrld, and that no slight obstacles could

stand in his path.

This oung man moved a chair to the
card-tab e, and seated himself there.

“ You are the man I have been looking
air,” he said, fixing his gaze upon Sam Mar-

n.

“ It iésdyour deal, Billy," said Martin, as he
bestow a supercilious stare upon the in-
trader.

“ Perhaps you don’t know me,” remarked

the young man.
. “ Can‘, say that I do,” replied Martin.

, ' ’ “gut know you. You are Martin Tres-

Billy.Kehoe started, and looked at his
companion curiously.

x “ And Iam George Aglar."

“Still I don’t know on,” said Martin
moving his chair so that e squarely faced
the o ' man. ‘

, “ am the brother of Minnie Aglar, whom
you married.” ' ‘

‘f! never married any person of that
name."

“ Perhaps you have since married so
many that you have forgotten her. ”

“ erhaps you mean that remark for an

 

,_, insult; but I am not in a quarrelsome mood

    

ust now.’ I remember the girl well enough;
at I never married her. ”

“ You lie 1”

Sam Martin jumped up, and his pistol was
out in an instant; but the other was quite as
quick as he.

Shots would have followed, it Billy
Kehoe had not rushed between them, push-

" ing each back. ’

A "Iflhase, gentlemen, don’t do that!” he
exclaimed. '1! on make a fuss here, you
, W111 bring the pol ce into my place. and that

 

will ruin me. Put up your pistols, for my ,
sake, and be quiet! f '011 must fight, there
is plenty of room outsi e. ”

“ I don’t care to light," replied Martin;
"but can I allow that young fellow to call
me a liar?"

“I will take back that word,” said A glar
to Kehoe, “ if your friend will sit down and
talk to me reasonably. I only want to ask
him a uestion or two."

The ifiiculty was settled in that way, and
the belligerents resumed their seats.

“What do you want to know?” gruflly
asked Martin.

“ I want to say in the first place," replied
his late antagonist, “that I had no right to
call you a liar. You ma believe that you
were not legally marrie to my sister, but
had swindled her. If so, you are iii-eatly
mistaken. I have taken pains to 100 into
that matter carefully, and I have proof that
the marriage was a real and legal one, and
that my sister was and is your lawful wife.”

“ I suppose you have a right to your
opinion on that point,” said Martin, with a
sneer. " I have my opinion, also. But,
supposing the case to be as you put it, what
of it? Does your sister want money of me?”

“No, indeed. If she needed money, you
are the last erson in the world she would
apply to. he only asks you to tell the
truth about one matter. Where is her boy ?”

"Her boy?”

“Yes, your son and hers—the child on
stole from her when you deserted her. hat
has become of him ‘2”

” I believe he is dea ,” quietly replied
Martin.

George Aglar made a gesture of impatience,
but repressed his rising anger.

" I must say, Martin Tressell, that you are
even more heartless than I had supgfiised you
to be. How can on speak so in ' erently
on such a subject ’ I

“ Do on fancy, young man, that I am
going tohother myse f about a brat, whether
it is mine’ or anybody’s else? I left that kid
in good hands up the river, and a heavy sum
it cost me for his keep, too. He ran away,
as I understand, and shipped on a flatboat
bound for New Orleans. Lately I heard
that he had tumbled overboard in the night,
and was drowned." -

“ How did you learn that?"

“ I got it by accident from one of the men
on the flatboat, who stepped off here a while
a 0."

"Did you inquire into the matter no fur-

” ,

er?

"Why should I? Dead people are dead.
Would you expect me to dra the river?"

“I would expect you to 0 nothing that

 

 

,4

3
i
1;

"u..—

....-J-It m;

; v...?.“.::- A

 

2,
3
i


‘1

Tip Tree-ell, the Floater.

    

 

a decent white man might do,” angrily re-
plied George Aglar.

“Take care, young. fellow.
about worn out my patience.”

“ I care nothing about your patience," said
the young man, as he rose from his seat. “I
will not trouble you any more at present; but
I am not through with you.”

" You had better make an end of it now.
If you bother me again, you will be likely to
get hurt.”

“You can't scare me, Martin Tressell. I
will report to my sister what you have said,
and I know how togtake up your trail if I
want to find you.”

The young man left the room, and Sam
Martin settled back in his chair. There was
a shade of annoyance on his swarthy face;
but no trace of a deeper feeling was visible.
His companion sat shutiiin the cards in an
absent-minded manner, an made no offer to
renew the game.

“ It is your deal, Billy," said Martin, a
little impatiently.

"Yes, Sam, it is my deal, but not in this
game—some other game. Boys, bring us
that black bottle of mine and some lasses.”

Martin looked suspiciously at Ke 0e, and
Kehoe looked down at the cards as if he
thought he might extract an idea from

You have

em.

“ What’s the matter with you I" inquired
the former.

“ So you are Martin Tressell, and I had
never guessed it.”

“Why should on guess it? Do you be-
lieve what that fe low said?” -

“ You didn’t deny it, and there is good
reason to believe that it is true. Then you
must be the son of the Begum."

“ The Begum? What’s that?”

“ You know well enough who I mean.
The cranky old woman who goes up and
down the river in a flatboat. She floats
down, then hitches onto a tow and goes back,
and then floats down again. She says she is
looking for her lost son, whose name is Mar-
tin Tressell.”

“ ighty small chance to find him in that
style, should say,” sneered Martin.

“ Not a bit of a chance, if he wants to keep
out of her way. v Why don’t you hitch onto
her, old man?" ' \

“ She and I could never get on to ether.”

“ But she is rich,, they say, and know
that you often go broke, as you come up here
and get me to stake you. You might have all
the money you want, if yon was <1 make up
with her.”

“ You don’t understand the matter at all,”
replied Martin. «'“ She would want to has
me tied to her with a string, and woul

 

dribble out the money to me as if I was a
boy. My father, who was the best ker-
plager in Mississippi, wasn’t that styie? If u
he ad left me his money, I would have seen ~

that she was well fixed and wanted for noth- 
ing. But he chose to leave it to her, and her
notion was that I must be kept under. I could- f .
n’t stand that, and split of! from her. I prefer.
to be independent, and I have found it easy
enough to get hold of more. . The trouble.
is that I can’t keep it. But don’t see what
business this is of yours, Bill Kehoe." '_ V

“ It is on] for your good t atl am a ak- w
ing, Sam. on’t you think there mig t be 
a wa to get hold of the money without "
knoc ing under to the old woman?" '

“ Ah! now you are talking. I have a.
scheme that is sure to fetch it, or a big part
of it. Do on want to go in w?“ me and
make a stri e?”

“Yes, if it is a soft and safe thing. But
I don’t mean to run my neck into a noose for
any man or any amount of money. "

“ This is safe and easy enough, " said
Martin, as he looked at his watch. “ I
must 0 to the post-office ust now. I will
come ack soon and tall; t e business over."

“ I will walk with you, Sam.” "

CHAPTER V.
sm mum’s eran em. ,

As Billy Kehoe and his friend passed out »
upon the sidewalk, stall and lar e man came .
down the street, accompanied y a bright ,-
faced boy who was shining in new clothesfif.

The man was Adam Stacker, and the be
was Tip Tresseil. Ft;

The two parties stared at each other
they met, and went their several ways.

‘ Mighty nice looking boy, that,” said

Kehoe.

“What of it?” asked Martin. “There
plenty such.” »

"I don’t know when I have seen such g
bright lad to look at. If I had a youngechap
like that, I could train him 11 to the
smartest man along the river. say,
there was a look of you in his face." '

" Quite likely. Mine is not an uncommon
st 10 of beauty."

%Vhen the two got back to Kehoe's too
they found nobody there but the color
man, as it was yet too early in the day for
“business,” and they resumed their seats,
and proceeded to discuss Martin’s project. a

" his scheme of mine,” said that'india
vidua , "is as safe as you please, and as easy
as rolling oil a log, and you won’t have any; .
thing to do in the matter to speak of,exs
cept to furnish a stake” Do you know
where Tunison’s Bayou is, down on the
Louisiana side!” ~

 

    
   
  
  
  
   
    
   
    
  
    
   
  
   
   
   
  
 
 
   
   
  
  

 

    
      
  
  
   
    
  
  
  
     
      
   

 

 

  
 

. yen a big bonus

. ,own fault.
hwas you who persuaded my wife to run
‘away from me, and that you have got her

Tip Tree-ell. the Floater.

um: .' a» wig.  ,-:_‘ «.1. ,- .A. ’ '

 

 

V GINO"

"Well, it ise enough to find. I have
got a—what I ca a—place, down there."

“ What sort of a place, Sam?"

“ Well, it is not a csmp-meetin , nor yet
a Sunda school. It is not a p antation,
either:
made there that never paid any tax to the
Government. There are some men about
that place who look up to me as a sort of a
boss: and we have ways of our own of get-
ting hold of money and property.”

“Without asking leave of the owners,
hey? I had a notion, Sam, that you were on
some such lay. Yes, I catch on to the style
of place you mean.”

" Sometimes, Billy, I call it a fort. I have
another place near it, in the heart of a cy-
press swamp, to retreat to in time of trouble,
Where it would puzzle the devil to track me,
er to et at me if he should find me.”

“ ell, and what has that to do with the

‘Begum business?”

" Everything. You must write to her an
anonymous letter, and get it to her somehow,
telling her that her son Martin is at- that

lace, and that he is sick and wants to make
riends with her. She will float her ark
down there, and work it u the bayou, and
when I get her there I wil capture her and
keep her until she ladies out the ducats.
Then I will pay on all I owe you, and give
sides."
,“ How will she find the place?"
" Tell her that about two miles up Tunison

' Bayou isa cygress swamp and just beyond

that she will nd her sick son.”

“Is that all you want me to do, besides
furnishin the stake?"

" That all. You can go down there, if
you choose, to see how thin are getting on
endto make sure that I ngie you asquare

“All right, Sam—if you don’t want too
much money from me.”
' " Oh, I won’t break you. I have a couple
of men here that I am going to take down
with me, and I must go and look after theml
I will come back here this evening to get the

 money, and then will take the first beat

down the river.”

As Sam Martin left the room he did not see
the malevolent look with which his crony
followed him.

“ I have found you out now, you cursed
sooundrell” muttered Kehoe. “If I don’t
get even with you this time it will be in
You think I don’t know that it

d somewhere—probably at that infernal

, den of yours downyondor. I will stake you

me folks say that whisky has been ‘

 

I in this busing, Bern Martin, and will'see
‘ you through it, and when I get even with you

11 money matters I will ave another ac-
count to settle.”

“ Marcus," he said aloud, "there is noth-
ing doing, and you may go out and take a
run if you want to; but be back in an hour.”

“ Thank you, Hesse Kehoe.”

The colored men, moving noiselessly about
on slippered feet, had hovered near the from
room while George Aglar was there. He
had ranged in the same region when Sam
Martin was disclosing his Tunison Bayou
plot. On each occasion he had listened ea-
gerly to what was said, and at times his eyes

listened, and the hand that held the dust-

rush twitched nervously.

. He hastened to at ready, and left the
house, walking rapi y up the street toward
the bluffs.

When he had gone about half a dozen
blocks, he quickened his steps, and hastened
to overtake a younglman who came out of a
gun-store ahead of im, accosting him when
he reached him:

“ Massa George! George Aglarl”

The young man turned around, and hesi-
tated, as if not sure that he recognized the
speaker.

“ Don’t you know me, Massa George? I'se
Marcus.”

George Aglar grasped his hand, and shook
it heartily.

“ Why, Marcus, I am ever so glad to meet
you. I ought to have known you; but it is
so long since I have seen you. I am glad to
find on looking so well and so prosperous. "

“ es, Massa George, I'se pros 'uous; but
I nebber frag“ do ole times be 0’ de wah.
Ole Massa ill‘am was allus might good
to me, and you and I was boys toged er, and
I nebber mean to go back on de ole stock.

I knowed you, Massa George, as soon as I _

sot e es on you.”

" hatl behind my back?”

"No, ssh—to yo‘ face. I saw you today
In Bill Kehoe’s gamblin’ shop."

“ What were you doing ther , Marcus?"

"Dat’s my business, sah. I ain’t one Oh
de gamboliers; but I ’tends de bah and works,
around. I listened to w'ot on and Sam
Martin was sayin’, and when heard about
Miss Minnie it made me feel alloverish. I
was mad enough to shoot dat black-faced
white man right onto .de spot."

“ You heard it all, then, Marcus?”

“ Mos‘ ob it, lab, and since den I’se heerd
somefin’ more. Dat‘s w’ot I want to tell you
about. It’s somefin’ mighty partic’lar.”

“ Come with me to m oflice, Marcus,

w ere we will be uiet an out of the way.”
eorge Azisr l the way up a side street
4 .

 

 

 

Tip Tron-ell, the Floater.

ll.

 

to a building that bore the 31
& Aglar, Cotton Brokers." t was closed,
as business hours were over; but he opened
the door with his key, lighted the gas, and
gave the colored man a seat.

M..:cus proceeded to relate the articulars
of the interview between Billy Eelioe and
Sam Martin, and gave a fair idea. of Martin‘s
plot to capture his mother and her money.

“This is a very serious matter," said
George Aglar. “ I don't know that it is any
of my business, and if my sister‘s son 18
really dead she can take no more interest in
that man or his people. But something
ought to be done by somebody to prevent
him from carr ing out his villainous scheme.
I will think 0 the matter, and will speak to ‘
Minnie about it, and I am much obliged to
you for bringing me this information." i

“Ef I cotoh hold ob anyfin’ mo’, Massa
George, I'll fetch it to you jest as soon as
ebber I ken."

“That is right, Marcus. Here is my mo- ‘
ther’s address. Minnie and [are living with
her, and we will all be glad to see you when-
ever you ean get a chance to call on us."

 

CHAPTER VI.
THE DEAD ALIVE.

TIP TRESSELL made friends with the crew
of the “Search,” as he would have said,
“without half tr ing.” Adam Stocker fell
in love with the ad at once, Mike Rafierty
adopted him as a comrade, and the colored I
cook “ cottoned " to him. These friendships
might partly be accounted for by the fact
that Tip was the grandson by brevet, if not ‘
the actual grandson, of the owner of the flat-
boat; but they were mainly due to his good
qualities and "taking " ways.

He had some difficulty in getting hold of
the name of the colored boy, who was
known on the boat as Ganymede. Gany-
mede was a puzzler to Tip, who twisted it
about in various shapes, and finally
“ tackled ” the darky on the subject.

“ That’s a queer name of yours," said he. ‘
“I knew a Silas Mead up the river, who had
a boy named Jim Mead, and another named
gee; but I never heard of a Ganny Mead be-

ore.”

“Dat ain’t my real name," re lied the
boy, witha rin. "My sure ’nu name is
Jawge Was in’ton Linkin Grant Muffin.
W’en I was a leetle chap de w’ite folks
usened to call me Rag Muflin fur short. Ole
Missus Tressell, she calls me Ganymede, an'
says it means a waiter. I specks it‘s French.
She says it's Greek; but Mike Rafierty says
he ort to know a Greek name, an’ dar ain’t
no Greek about it.” 1

of “ Simon i

‘an outfit of clothing.

“It is a better name than the long one,
anyhow," remarked Tip.

” Mobbe 'tis; but my mudder orter knowed
wo’t she was doin.’ My mudder was a
queen.”

“ A ueenl” exclaimed Tip.

“ A audoo ueen, an’ one ob de biggest
kine. My fah er was one Oh de common
stock ob niggers, I reckon; but my mudder
was jest ole pecoon. Eberybody was ’feared
ob her, an‘ so was I. Dat’s w'ot made me
run away. She usened to bob queer fits, and
once she built a big tiah, an' was gwine to
roast me ads to fix t‘ings up wid do debbil;
but I slipped ontcn her grip, an’ den I cut
an’ mn."

“ You got out of that scrape well,
Ganny.”

" I‘se a powerful hand to git out o' scrapes.
Ef you ebber git inter one, Mass’ Tip, jest

'011 call on Jawge Washin’ton Linkin Grant
Iuflln, an' H] gib you a starter.”

Mrs. Tressell, having settled upon Tip as
a grandson, whether provisional] or other-
wrse, was not one to make a halt-way busi—
ness of it, and she at once set herself at work
to educate him.

She was thorough in everything she under-
took, and in this she was allttle too thorough
to please the lad. ,The book lessons were
well enough, though there was rather too

.much of them; but her continual correc-

tions of his 5 eech and manners worried him
no little, an he would greatly have pre-
ferred a free and eas time outside with
Adam Stocker and Mike Rafferty, or even
in the kitchen with Ganymede.

There was a break in this monotony when
the ark was brought to the bank at Memphis,
and was made fast to the landing at the

‘ lower end of the city.

The first thing Mrs. Tressell (lid was to di-
rect Adam to take Tip ashore and buy him
With her usual
thorou hness she had pre ared a memoran-
dum o everthing the la was to have, in-

,cluding the price that was to be paid for

each article.

To Tip this was the biggest kind of a
holiday, far beyond anything he had ever
experienced or ima ined. It was the first

‘ time he had seen a city, and Memphis was a

wonder to him.

The clothing stores dazzled him, and the
articles that were purchased for him made
him open his eyes wide and regard himself
as a pig in clover. .

W en he was fully arrayed in a nice new
suit, Adam Stoeker said that he was fully
an inch taller than when he stepped ashore
at Memphis. '

Dressed in his new suit. and with his old

 

  
 

 

said Tip.

Tip Treason. the Floater.

 

clothes and his other purchases in bundles,
he and Adam Stocker set out to return to the
" Search. ”

As the walked down the street they met
two wel -dresscd but flashy- looking men,
who had just emerged from a house: These
men stared at. them, and were stared at in
turn.

“ Those men looked at us mighty straight,
Adam," said Tip, when they had passed

i‘Dot vas so. Von of dcm look so like

. he vant to eat us oop. Dose fellcrs vas no
,- Boot peoples, Tip. Dcy vas ga gamboliers.

ot tall man mit black hair 100 so like you
as 1,1,efer vas. Aber dey makes notting mit

“I guess if they see us a ain they will
know us," remarked Tip. " will be likely
to know them, too. ”

The boy and his big friend were destined
to have a more startling adventure before
the got back to the “ Search.”

hey had reached the levee, and were go-
ing southward, when Tip suddenly dropped
the bundle he was carrying, and uttered a
my of astonishment, if not of terror.

“Vas machst du?" exclaimed the aston-
ished Adam.

At the same time arough-lookin man who

' Was approaching them sto ped an stared.

' “It3s him 1” shouted ip, in utter disre-
gard of Mrs. Tressell’s grammatical instruc~
ti'ons. “ It’s him, and he’s alivel”

The rough-looking man stood and stared,
while the boy ran toward him.

“ Oh, Mr. Siddalsl Jesse Siddalsl You
ain’t a ghost, are you ‘2”

Then the ten h-looking man took Tip by
both hands, an held him there while he ex-

amined him from head to foot.

’ “Durned if it ain't little Tip!” said he,
as a smile spread over his sunburned face.
“ Wh , Tip, how did you ever get here?”

' “ ow did you ever get here?" replied the
boy. “ Adam Stocker, this is Jesse Siddals,
the man I told you about, who stood up for
me‘ou that big flatboat, and was shot and

’ I knocked overboard and drowned."

"So?" remarked the stolid German.

"Aber he vas so mooch besser as a dead ’

man already.”
Then he eliberately laid down his bundles

' and shook hands with Siddals.

"Iam so glad to see you, Mr. Siddals,”

dead, and was 'sorrier than I can tell you,

because you were killed when you were

standin xup for me. " '
d3(‘1‘5'D0 look like a dead man?" asked Bid-

“No. You are all right, I should say.
How did it happen?"

    
 

 

" I thought sure that you were.

 

l \ 

" The fact is, bub, that I wasn’t killed at
all. When that scamp shot at me, I was
standing just at the edge of the boat. The
bullet struck this tough old nut of mine, and
glanced off ; but that was enough to tumble
me over. I was more startled than hurt, I
reckon, and I had my wits about me When I
drOp ed into the water. I then thought that
the o 8 would make a finish of me if I
showe up, as they were just that murderous
sort, and that I had better get out of their
way. So I dived upstream, and when I
bobbed up, the boat was ’way below me.
Then I swam ashore, and in one way and
another I have worked down as far as this.”

" What are you doing here, Mr. Siddals?”
asked Tip, who-felt bound to show respect to
the tall lumberman.

“ I’ve been looking for a job; but jobs in
my line seem to be mighty scarce.”

“ Come with me an I’ I get you a job. I
am so glad that you are alive, and that I ran
across on. I'll get you a job' right away.
Won‘t , Adam?”

“ Seems like you’ve got into a pretty good
job yourself, you chap " remarked Sid-
dals, as he suflered ip to lead him awa .

On his way to the “Search” Tip tol the
story of his adventures since he fled from
the broadhorn, and Siddals congratulated
him on his good fonune.

When they reached the flatboat Tip ran
back to Mrs. Tressell‘s room, and entered it
without any ceremony.

She put up her glasses to examine him in
his new rig.

" This is what I ma call a transformation
scene," said she. “ must say, Tip, that

our new clothes have made a great chan e
in your looks. Adam has done well; but e
alwa ’s does well.”

“ h, the clothes are all right, and I am
ever so much obliged to you for them,” re-

lied the im atient lad. “ But something
has happene that I want to eak to on
about. Jesse Siddalsisalive. found im
in the city, and have brought him down here,
and I want you to give him a job.”

“What isthat, p? I don’t understand
you at all.”

“ I mean that I want you to ugive him a job
on this flatboat. He is asple id boatman.”

“ But I have no need of a man. My crew
is big enough, and there is no room for
more.”

“ There ought to be room for him, grand-
ma. It is Jesse Sididals, who stood up for
me when I was abused on that big flatboat,
and was shot and drowned. But he swam
ashore, and he has been looking for’a job in
Memphis, and he can‘t find one.”

“ Oh, that man? I had forgotten the
name. 1 must see what can be done for

 

 

Tip Tressell,

the Floater.

13

 

him. But your story is badly mixed up,
Tip. Sit down and try to tell it to me plain-
ly, and be careful how on talk.”

Tip told the story of . esse Siddals’s adven-
ture, and managed to make it intelligible.

Mrs. Tressell requested him to bring in
his friend, and she was much pleased with
the honest face and straightforward ways of
the tall lumbcrnian.

80 Jesse Siddals was engaged as one of the
crew of the “ Search," and, as he was a
friend of Tip’s, he was at once adopted as a
comrade by the others.

The next morning Mrs. Tressell received a
letter, which was brought to the boat by a
messenger, and which threw her into a. state
of high excitement.

She sent for Tip and Adam Stocker and
Jesse Siddals, and when they were gathered
in her cabin she read this to them:

“ MRS. ELIZA Tasman:—

“If you still wont to find your son, Martin Tres-
sell, this is to tell you that you have one to work in
the wrong way,and that you are coking in the
wrong’ part of the country.

“He is now in Louisiana and is ve sick there,
and I am sure that he would be glad to love you go
and bring him awe and take cure of him.

“ It you wish to 0 so. let your tiatboat drop down
to Tunlson Bayou. About two miles from the mouth
of the bayou, on the south side is a. cypress swamp.
Just beyond the cypress swamp is t e place where
your son lies sick. '

“ I saw him a few days ago, and did not tell him
that I meant to communicate with you. I write
this merely as A FRIEND 'ro Born."

Mrs. Tressell, having called a council of
war to consider this letter, asked the opinion
of the council, though it was evident that
she had made up her mind. I

“ We must start at once," she said, " and
must get there as soon as ossible.” _

“Yoost so vell go by ot bayou like any
oder place," remarked Adam:

Jesse Siddals had no opinion to express,
and Tip was pleased by the prospect of some-
thin in the shape of an adventure.

“ t is settled, then,” said the old lady.
“Adam, do you think you can find Tnnison
Be on?” _

he German shook his head. He had not
the remotest idea of the locality.

_ “ I know it, mum, if you lease,” said
Biddals: “ I am a tol’able goo pilot for the
lower river, so far as flatboating goes.”

" Very well. I Will rely upon you to take
the 'Search ’ there.” _ . i

The energetic and impatient old lady could
hardly wait for necessary supplies, and the
flatbont was soon .cast loose, and was again
floating on the sw1ft and turbid current of
the Mississippi.
‘ CHAPTER VII.

AN “EXPECT-ED ATTACK.
Tn shades of eveninz were slowly but

 

 

surely covering a broad stretch of the lower
Mississi pi when Jesse Silldals, acting as
pilot 0 the “ Search,” called all hands to
duty.

It was not to tack ship, or to roof or furl
sails, as the ark was by no means that kind
of a craft, but to work her in to the Louisiana
shore. -
“ The fact is." said Jesse, “that the bayou
we want to reach ain't easy to find in the
daylight, and i doubt if it could be struck at
all in the dark. I reckon we must be nigh it
now, and we don't want to run by it at
night. So we'll take to the shore, and lay by
till morning, if it’s agreeable to all.”

It was agreeable to all, and the two men
man ncd the sweeps, and Mike Rafferty man-
aged the steering-oar, and soon the ark w
moored against the low-lying‘bank, undd:
the shadow 01' immense trees that made her
look very small.

When everything had been made ready for
the ni rht Jesse and Tip stepped ashore, and ,
strolle into the ,forest, to stretch their legs,
and take a look at the locality.

They soon returned with a rather start-
ling tale. The had seen a. man with a gun
lurking in the crest, and he had dodged out
of sight and disappeared when they advanced
toward him and hailed him.

A council of war was called, and the cir-
cumstance was considered a‘serious one.

The man might have been a hunter, who ' '

was looking for coons or some other night
game; but in that case he would probably ‘
have had a dog, and would not have sneaked
own as he did. ‘ I

111s presence there and his actions werere-
garded as highly suspicious.

“This is a queer conntr , mum,”.soid .
Siddals, “and there‘s no to ling what may '

 

turn up about here, -We ought to be resdy‘: “

for ’ml st anything." _ .
“ Had we not better leave this " lace, and
go further down the river ?" ask\ed Irs. Tres-
sell.
“ I am afraid that would be a bad scheme,
mum. We might miss the bayou. and then

it would be a hard job to work up.” - ‘ y,

“Very well; We can fight if we must.

Adam; open the long chest, and examine the f

arms. .
The “Search” raved to be well provided
with weapons am munit'ons of war. .There
were three breech-loadin rifles, four revol-
vers, and plenty of cartridges. She needed
only to be “tin clad ” to take rank as a naval
vessel.

Adam Stocker took one of the rifles, and ,
Jesse Siddals took another. The Irish lad ‘

ossessed himself of the third, but handled
t so gingerlysnd awkwardly that it was}

 

 

\ 1,
I.

 

 

Tip Tressell, the Floater.

 

   
   
   

easy to see that he was unaccustomed to the
use of fire-arms.

“ Tip was brought up in the woods,” sug-
gested Mrs. Tresscll. “ Perhaps he knows
how to use a rifle.“ _

“ You can just bet I do,” re lied Tip. “ I

can shoot as straight as most olks."
7 So Tip was iven one of the rifles, and
 Mike contented imself with a revolver.

ark having been completed, it was decided
that it was not necessary for the entire crew
to keep awake, as the danger might be mere-
ly imaginary. Siddals and Mike were de-
tailed to keep watch, and the others laid
. - down to sleep.
3:31 It was not until three hours after midnight
that the sleepers were aroused.
' The watchers had seen more than one dark
obg‘eet moving about in the forest, and it was
.be loved that a crisis was at hand.
The river was at such a high stage that
r the water was near] level With the top of
the bank, and the bo y of the ark overlooked
the flat land that was covered by the virgin
forest.

There was a bit of a moon shining, enough
, .to distribute streaks of uncertain light among
the trees, and all was uict, except for the
ripplin of the water an the hum of insects.

Mrs. ressell, who was in all respects and
' on all occasions the commander of the craft,
assigned the crew to their stations, placing
, Jesse Siddals at the upper end of the boat,

a d Adam Stacker, at the lower end, and
ike and Tip at the two windows in the
men’s sleeping—room and the kitchen.

For her part she stationed herself, with a
revolver in her hand, near the window of her
cabin, although strongly entreated to allow
herself to to be protected by a barricade.

As Tip enteredthe kitchen to take his sta-
tion, he perceived that Ganymede had on the
fire a large boiler full of water, which was
alread bubbling and steaming.

He ‘11 not sto to ask the meaning of this
preparation, as his attention was immediately
absorbed by the events outside.

From his window he could see several
dark forms in the forest, skulking from tree
to tree, and gradually approaching the ark.

Then he heard the stentorian voice of
. Jesse Siddals, ringing far into the depths of
-; the forest.

“Who goes there?” shouted the tall lum-

barman.
7 ‘ The skulklng ceased, and there was silence
101' a minute or so before an answering hail
came back.
" Hello, the boat l”
, “Hello yourself 1” replied Siddals. " Who
are you. and what do you want?”

 

The arrangements for the defense of ' the i

“We‘want that beat and what’s aboard of
it. Let the men-folks come ashOre and throw
‘ up their hands, and they won’t be hurt. If
they don't do it, they’ll be apt to come up
1 missin'.”
Jesse Siddsls shouted back his defiance.
“If you want anything on this boat, you
dirty rascals, you‘ll have to come and take
, it.”
‘ There was silence again, and after a few
‘ minutes the skulking recommenccd.
Then there was a shot from the shore, evi-
dently fired at Siddals’s end of the boat, and
i he quickly answered it with his rifle.
Then Stocker fired from his end, and sev-
, eral shots came from behind the two, the bul-
l lets crashing into and through the woodwork
of the ark. ,
l Tip, resting his rifle on the sill of his
1 window, drew a head on one of the skulkers,
. and fired.
i As he paused to watch the efiect of his
. shot, Jesse Siddais again shouted:
i “Look out! They’re coming!”

Tip was about to fire another shot, when

Mrs. Tressell called him.

He turned, and saw that energetic old
1 lady standing near the stove, with a revolver
g in her right band.
|‘ On the floor was a queer-looking machine
hwith two long handles, from which projected
apiece of hose, and Mike Rafferty was ap-
preaching the window with a brass pipe at-
tached to the hose.
‘ “ Take hold of the pump with Ganymede,
while Mike works the nozzle,” ordered the
old lady. “ Be quick, now!"

Tip jumped to the work, and hastened to
imitate the action of the colored boy. They
moved the handles rapidly up and down,
encoura ed by the sharp yells of Mike Raf-
ferty, w 0 was holding a rubber stopper at
the nozzle of the pipe.

“Jerk her down, boys! Jum her, now!
Ah, the dirth rip‘tyles, the vagesl Be
jsbers, won’t t ey etch it, though 1’

Ti heard the reports of Siddals’s and
Stoc er‘s rifles, mingled with a general vol-
ley from the shore, and then aehorus of
shouts that seemed to sound at the very edge
of the bank.

vigorously than ever, Mike jerked the stop-
per from the end of the pipe, and the hissing
of a stream of boiling water followed.

The next moment the shouts without were
changed to screams of pain and yells of dis~
may. Biddals and Stocker shouted in tri-
umph and derision, and fired their rifles at
an evidently retreating foe.

" That will do, boys—stop pumping!”

 

ordered Mrs. Tressell. “How is it. Mike?”

 

The two boys worked the pump more

 

harsh.) 5““:

 

Tip Tressell, the floater.

 

“All right, mum. Be Aubers, it stopped
'ist in time. This blissi
urnin’ the fingers of! of me.’

As a matter of fact the coast was clear. putting up a job against you.
The enemy had decamped, and Stocker and . to be rich, mum, and of course

Siddals came in to receive the congratqu

"What do you mean by a game?” asked

pipe was nigh the old lady.

“I’ve a notion that somebod has been
ou are said
aplenty of

people would be glad to get hol of your

tions of the commander on the successful (18‘ money. The letter you got at Main his,

tense of the ark.

which sent you down here, may have can

“ It was the hot wather that did it,” in- part of the game.”

sisted Mike.

“Yes, it was the hot water that did it,” this suspicion," remarked Mrs.

said Siddsls, as he proceeded to give an ac-

ou have for
ressell.
“This is a queer country, mum; but the

“I fail to see what reason

count of the discomi'lture of their assailants. queerest thing I know about it is what hap-

About adosen men, as well as he could
judge, had come runnin out of the woods,
and had nearly reached t e boat when Mike ‘
turned on them a. stream of boiling water, ,
directing his pipe all along their line. "

The effect was instantaneous. Blinded,
and scalded by this unexpected style of at-
tack, they had turned and fled, tumblin
over each other in their haste to get out o
the way. i

It was not expected that they would ro-,
turn; but the crew kept an armed watch un-
til daylight, when they went ashore to ex-
amine the scene of the assault.

They found the foliage of the trees and
shrubs withered by the stream of boiling
water, and found a few spots and patches of
blood on the ground; but if there were any
killed or wounded, they had been carried,
awa by their friends. - l

“ aith, now,” said Mike, “if we come
across any min about here that's scalded,
we’ll know what’s the matther wid thim." ‘

Mrs. Tresscll smiled a grim smile, and gave
orders for continuing the voyage.

As soon as breakfast was over the ark was V
uhnmoored, and proceeded to drop down the
river.

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.
Tim vormoo QUEEN.

J nsss: SIDDALB had no difficulty in locat in
Tunison‘s Bayou in the da light. It prove
to be about a mile below t e spot where the
attack was made upon the ark, and it was a
narrow inlet, though sufficiently wide for
the “ Search ” to use her sweeps. At places
it broadened out into quite a lake, and
there was no current, the usually sluggish
water of the bayou being backed up by the
river. l

As the ark entered this inlet Siddals made
Tip take him into Mrs. ’I‘ressell's cabin, as he
wished to have a serious talk with her.

“ I am willing to go anywhere you want
me to go, mum," said he, “and to do the
best I can in any kind of a scrape; but I
am agree that there is a game in am busi-i

ess.

pened to us last night. It just gets me for
all I am worth to think that those scamps
should have been on hand in that lonesome
place, and in the night time, ready to snap
us u when we struck the shore. Another
p’int, if you please, mum. When they hailed
the boat they told us that if the men-folks
would come ashore and throw up their hands
they wouldn‘t be hurt. Why did they s eak
of men-folks unless they had women-fol in
their thoughts? And the women-folks means
you, mum. They must have known that
you were there.”

“That is quite iikel , Mr. Siddals. The
‘Search’ is pretty we 1 known along the
river, and perhaps those sooundrels saw her
as she floated down, and got ready for an at-
tempt to capture and rob her. But I see no
reason to suppose that the job was put up,
as you say, in advance of our appearance in
this art of the river."

“ can't get it out of my head, mum, that

it was you they meant to go for." _
“ Very well; I must take some risks. One
thing is certain, that I can afford to miss no
chance of flndin my son. If be Is here, and
especially if he is sick, I must see him, and
nothing shall stand in my way If an man
wants to back out, wel an good. hose
who stand by me will lose nothing by it."

Jesse Biddsls returned to the roof of the
ark, and he and Adam Btocker worked the
swee , while Mike Rafiert managed the
steering-oar, and Tip, prou of the posses-
dion of a rapeating-rifle, stationed himself at
the forwar part of the craft, to look out for
foes.

But no foes were encountered, and the
“ Search ” had a quiet and uneventful pas-
ra re up the bayou.

ibout two miles from the mouth, as the
anonymous letter to Mrs. Tressoll had stated,
a large cypress swamp was passed. The
tall and dar trees, heavfly draped With S an-
ish moss, presented a weird and funerea ap-
pearance, and the land which the forest occu-
pied ‘ns at that stage of the river nearly cov-
ered with water.

Beyond the cypress swamp the land was

 

    

10

Tip Tree-ell. the Pigater.

 

somewhat higher, and a considerable portion

 

was mostly overgrown with weeds and sedge-
gll'ass and bushes. About half a mile from
c shore a dilapidated log—house was visible.

at once to search for her son, but as night
w was coming on the others objected, and she
‘.\ consented to wait until morning.
‘ if The boat was moored against the low bank,
I l and all retired to rest except Adam Stocker,
who kept guard with his rifle.
Early the next morning Tip was in the

 fire for breakfast.

'2 , The black boy was unusually quiet, and
had such a serious and scared look on his
face that Tip asked him what wafiie matter.
‘ “ Dis is a mighty skeery place, ass’ Tip,”
he replied. “ know dis place just as well
as I wanter. Do ole home w’ot I runned
away from w’en my muddcr was gwine to
roast me was nigh yar. I wish de missus
would hurry an’ git away from dis lace.
.Please dror dat curtain, Mass’ Tip. can’t

" War to look out dar.”

Tip began to believe that this voyage in
the “ Search ’_’ would be productive of some
lively adventures; but his further reflections

“ ; on at subject were interrupted by a call

from Mrs. Tressell’s cabin. .
, ‘ Mike Rafferty had found, fastened to the
wood at the forward end of the ark, a letter
addressed to Mrs. Tresscll. She had opened

.'and read it, and had called a council of war

to consider it.
Adam Stocker declared that he had kept

\a careful watch through the night, without

once closing his e es, and that no person

i could have approac ed the boat near enough

‘ to leave such a missive; but it was there,
however it got there.

. . The old ady, who had her full share of

' {sentences as Well as of energy, said that it

was written in a disguised hand; but that

, did not appear to be a point of any real im-

ce

a

. It was in these words:
“ ml; Emu husm:— ‘ 1
wish to see your sick son, Martin Tressell.
the Voudoov een, a mile up
and you learn where to

'r There was no signature, and the writer
was as much a myste as the means by
which the letter had reac ed the boat.

“I don’t like the looks of it, mum,” said
Jesse Siddals. “ If the man who wrote that
wssan honest man, why didn’t he sign his
name to it?"

. “There is nothin in that, ” re lied the old

a W
nadhim.

kitchen, where Ganymede was starting the,

l

of it was cleared, and had once been culti-j would be of no use to me.
vated, but at the time of the ark's visit it, messenger to that woman, and who will go?"

l

MrsTressell Wasunxious to scudoutscouts: you should not go, if you want to.

 

 "As the ter is probe lyaperson‘

Y‘s/.1».

I

I
. t.

 

with whom I am unacquainted, his name
I must send a

“I willl" eagerly exclaimed Tip, excited
at the prospect of an adventure.

“ You will? Well, Tip, I don’t know V§hy

ou
are big enough and smart enough to take
care of yourself. But can you find the
place?"

" I will take Ganymede to help me find it.
He knows the count about here."

” He does? That 18 queer. He shall go
with you, then. You may take a pistol if
you choose, Tip. Tell the woman to come
down to the boat, and that I will pay her well
for her time.”

Tip hastened to the kitchen, and explained
to Ganymede what was required of him.

The cock was quite dismayed at being
called upon for such a mission.

“ You ortn’t to done that, Mass’ Tip, ” he
rotested. “ You know how deadly skecrcd
am 0’ this place.”

“ Oh, there is nothin to be afraid of.

Nobody will hurt you. will take care of

u.

"Specks I’ll hub to take' keer o’ myscil'
some, too. But I s’pose I’se got to go, au’
thar‘s no use waitin‘.”

When they were ashore and on the way
the colored boy went forward briskly enough,
though he was evidently keeping a sharp
lookout for danger. '

"If you are so afraid of this place, Gan,
why did ou come with me?" asked Tipl'

“ Oh, ’se bound to go wharcbbcr ole
missus says, eben if it’s to go an’ it roastid.
But I don’t allow to git roastid, ass' Tip.
I’ll show you do house, an’ den I’ll hide till
you comes back.”

" All right. I ain’t afraid."

They easily found the’ “old Woodville
road,” though it was scarcely entitled any
lorEger to be called a road. It led from what
he once been a landing back into the coun-
try, but was so grown up with weeds and
bushes that wagons woul have difficulty in
traversing it, if any should stray that way.

About a mile up this road they came in
sight of a dilapidated frame house, and there
Gan ode stopped.

“ ar’s de house, Mass’ Ti ,” said be.
“You ken jcss go right on, an’ ’11 hide yer
in de bushes. ”

He hastened to conceal himself inathicket
at the right, and Tip, not a bit dismayed,
trudged on until he reached the house.

In the palmy days “befo’ de web” it
must have been, the farm-house that con-
trolled all the cultivated land in that vicinity;
but there was no longer any cultivated land.

 

i
l
l
i

......-_,._W..._.~..a._ 4;;vx_.a,, H.‘ 4_ _’_ .-

. d...“
MM

 

 

.H. .H./a-~. 1 1.

 

Tip Treason. the Floater. I?

 

 

and there was nothing about_the premises
to suggest farming. t was,_1ndeed, as d1—
1apidatcd, gone-to—seed, shiftless and wocbc-
gone a tenement as could be imagined. The
front orch had fallen in, the windows were
stifled with rags and old hats, and the only
sign of life was a forlorn yellow dog, which
set up a howl as Tip approached the door.

He knOCked vigorously, but no one came
to let him in.

At last a harsh and snarling voice hailed
him from within.

“Come in, then] Why don’t you come

in, ’stead 0’ knockin’ thar like a durned
fool?”
, Hepushed open the door, and entered,
findin himself in a large room whose
sloven y appearance well suited the dilapi-
dated house. I

In one corner was a tumble-down bed. In
the center was a rickety table on which
were a greasy pack of cards and a battered
coffee-pot. A slow fire was burning on the
hearth, over which a pot was simmering full
of something that gave out a strange and un-
pleasant odor.

Near the fire was seated a mulatto woman,
neither - fyoung nor old, dressed in a faded
calico 0 the Dolly Varden pattern, and in a
corner was a man with his back to the door,
who.seemed to be figuring in a blank book.

An enormous black cat sat on its haunches
near the woman, and on the other side of the
fire-place was a large and ugly snake, lap-
ping with its forked tongue in a basin of
mi .

As soon as Tip saw the snake he jumped
up on the only chair in the room that had
four legs. \ ,

"What‘s the matter wid you?” snarled
the woman.

"I don’t like snakes,” replied Tip.

_" That shows how little sense yo’ got."
said she, as she rose and picked up the rep-
tile. She resumed her seat, and the snake
called up contentedl on her lap, while she
smqopthedhand patte it.

1p, w o wanted to at awa from the
snake, hastened to delivgr his myessa e, as -
mg that he had come from Mrs. esse 1,
who was In a. boat down yonder, and who
had received a letter telling her to apply to
Rose Michon, the Voodoo Queen, for news
of her son, Martin Tressell.

As he said this, the man in the corner
looked around qurckly, [and Tip .was .sure
that he had seen that long black hair and
that swarthy face before. Yes, he remem-
bered the very spot in Memphis where he
had seen that man.

“ What does she want me to do?” snarled
the woman.

" She wants you‘to come down to the beat,
and she will pay you well for your time and
trouble.”

The woman snecred, and there was a wild,
malevolent look in her face thatmade the
lad shudder.

“ Tell that white woman,” said she, “ that
Rose Michon never stirs out of her tracks for
any man or woman, rich or poor. If she
wants to see me, she must come here.”

Tip backed out of the door, glad to get
away from that nightmare of a place; but
he was followed by the man who had been
seated in the corner, who laid a hand on his
shoulder as he stepped outside.

“ I say, young chap,” said this individual,
“ what might your name be?"

“ Beeswax,’ shortly replied Tip. .

“It seems to me, Beeswax, that I’ve seen «
you somewhere before.” '

“ Like enough. I’ve been there."

“ I’ve a notion, Beeswax, that you are just
a. little bit too sharp."

“ My name ain’t Beeswax,” said Tip,
edging away. _ '

" You told me it was Beeswax.”

“ I didn’t. You asked me what my name
might be, and it might be Beeswax, but it _
ain’t.”

By this time he was well out of the each
of his uestioner, and he walked briskly 
away, With an air of perfect independence.

CHAPTER IX.
MARTIN mssaLL’s rm.

Wmm Tip reached the thicket, Ganymede
crawled out and 'oined him. , 7»

“ Golly, Mass’ ip,” said the colored lad; "
" I’m mighty glad you got out 0’ dat place
widout gittin’ roastid." 

“They didn’t roast me, and they didn’t '
eat me,” replied Tip; “but I was worried a 
ew ’ ‘

 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
   
 
 
  
 
 
 
   
 
 

 

Then he related his adventures, not 'for’
etting the snake that was so much at hem
1n the house. r ‘
“Dat’s ess like m mudder," said Gany
mede. “ he was lus habbin’ snakes an"
skeery things about. She calls herself Rose
Michon; but her sure ’nufl name is Phoebe
Mufiin. I’se mighty glad, Mass’ Tip, do
you didn’t git roastid.” ,
“I ain’t afraid of that, But it made me
mad when she said that grandma must comem
and see her. " r /
“Dar ain’t no fun in dat, sho’; but
missus ’ll be might apt to do it.”
Ganymede was mght in his conjecture. As
soon as Tip had reached the ark and told his
story, Mrs. Tressell declared her intention o ,

 

going to visit the Voudoo Queen.

   

   

18

"We must not be afraid of snakes, Tip,"
she said. “ The snake you saw was a harm-
less one, no doubt, or the woman would not
have kept it there. I see no danger, and I
am bound to go wherever there is a chance
of flndin m son.”

Jesse giddals, the chronic objector, ob-
jected strongly to this determination, as ing
that the fact that Tip had seen at ose
Michon's house a man whom he had met at
Memphis was a suspicious circumstance, in-
dicating a put-up job.

“Dot man was vat you call a bad sort
too," said Adam, who remembered the Mem-
phis encounter.

“ You are too full of your suspicions,
friend Siddals," she replied. “ I am search-
ing for my son, and must leave no means un-
tried that may help me to find him."

She put on her hat, placed a revolver in her
pocket, and sallied forth with Tip, after di-
aecting the others to remain and guard the

oat.

All was silent at the old house occupied by
the Voudoo Queen, except the doleful howl
of the lean yellow dog.

“ This looks like the last days of a played-
out plantation," said Mrs. Tressell, as they
approached the door.

Tip knocked at the door again, and again
a harsh and snarling voice bade him enter.

He pushed the door open and they stepped
into the sloveniy, dirty room.

The pot had been removed from the fire-
place and was simmering over a furnace in
the middle of the floor, sending forth the
same strange and unpleasant odor that had
disgusted the lad in the morning.

A youn alli ator, stufled, was on the
dirty mant e, an about the walls were sev-
eral hideous objects which Tip had not pre-
viously seen there.

The man who had been seated in a corner
in the morning, with his back to the door,
was not in the room, and Tip did not regret
his absence. The mulatto woman was there,
though, and coiled in her lap was the some
ugly snake, and her hair was arranged more
fantastically than before, and there wass yet
wilder gleam in her wicked eyes.

“ You are here, then,” she said, as the old
lady seated herself on a rickety chair. “ If

on had not come my charms would have
roulght you.”

“ t is enough that I am here,” quietly re-
plied Mrs. Tressell. “ I received a note this
morning saying that you can tell me where
to find 111 son, Martin Tressell. If you will

vetme t information I will pay you well

or 1 .’

"I can show him to .you," replied the
priestess of the Voudoo rites.

Tip Tressell, the Floater.

  

" How’s that? Is he here?"

“No; but I can show him to you, if you
will pay for the sight.”

‘ The mulatto woman rose from her seat,
‘ placed the snake on some rs s at the side of
the fireplace, where it coi ed up quietly,
, stepped to the furnace and threw a powder
1 on t e coals.
l A dense smoke rose up, diffusing through
, the room a fragrance that overcame the un-
' pleasant odor o the pot.

“What do you mean by that?” sharply
asked Mrs. Tressell. '

“I must call up N s, and then I will
show you Martin Tresse 1, just where he is
and as he is.”

“Bahl” exclaimed the fearless old lady.
"I want none of our mummeries, do not
believe in your witc craft, and am not afraid
of any charms you can work. If you know
where m son is tell me and I will pay you.
That is a l I have to do with you.”

Rose Michon darted a spiteful glance at
Mrs. Tressell.

“You had better not laugh at me,” she
said. “ I can do you more harm than you
think."

“ I am not laughing at you. I have come
here on business, and have nothing to do
with anything outside of the business that
brought me here. Tell me where I am to
find my son, and I will pay ou for that.”

“ Go on, then, if you wi l. I wanted to
show him to you as he is, and then you
might have been satisfied; but you are too
hard-headed. Go back down the road until
you come in sight of the old 10 house that
you can see from your boat. en cross the
old field to that house. You will find Mar-
tin Tressell there.”

“Now I understand you. What shall I
pay ou for this ?”

“ ‘en dollars,” replied the woman, hold-
ing out her hand.

“ I will give you five dollars now, and will
send you more if I find that you have told
me the truth. Come, Tip.”

Mrs. Tressell walked to the door, followed
by Tip, but had no sooner stepped outside
than she was confronted by four men, who
had evidently been lying in wait at the side
of the house.

One of the four was the tall and swarthy
man whom Tip had seen at Memphis, and
had again met that morning.

At sight of this man the old lady uttered a
cry; but one of his comrades threw a cloth
over her head, and two others seized and
held her.

Tip understood the trap at a glance, and
perceived that flight was his only chance.

 

K

Turning quickly he saw that the back

     

b...—

door (
throng
He ‘
had or
closed
rather
from
Tip
and t
he ju
lle
expo
fella;
stru(
In
but ‘
by 5
out
It
wel‘
dee'
I.
tlm
tha
a h
be
of '

   

    
 
   

Tip Tressell, the Floater. N

 

door of the room was open, and dartedl Finding nothing in the shape of a stone

through it. ‘ the man picked up a heavy fragment of
He was then in an abandoned room that wood, and dropped it into thewell.

had once been a kitchen. The doors were  It struck the water With a big splash, near

closed, but a window was wide open—or, i the boy’s head.

rather, the window had entirely disappeared “ IIe ain’t thar,” said the man who had

from the opening. thrown it. “ If he went in thar, he's drown-

'l‘ip heard a shout of “Catch the boyl" ‘ ed afore now. Come along, Dave."
and the heavy steps of men in the house, and ‘ Tip raised his head out of the water, and
11” j‘lml’t‘d OUL l rejoiced in a long breath; but he waited

He did not alight on the ground as he had twenty minutes or more before he ellmbed to
expected to, but crashed through some the mouth of the well. . .
folia e, and went down, down, until he It was then near the end of twrhght, and
struc water. the darkness was falling rapidly.

Into the water he went, over head and ears, Seeing nobody about, he crawled out. of
but touched bottom, and soon erceived that j the bushes, and ran as fast as his dripping
by standing upright he could eep his head ’ clothes would allow him to run to the thicket

out of the wet. down the road.
It was clear that he had fallen into an old
Even, and fortunately for him it was not CHAPTER X.
cop, and was but artly filled with water.
Looking upward) he saw the foliage BILLY “EOE DISCOMMTED'

through which he had dropped, and knew "MARTINl my son Martin!" was the ex-
that the mouth of the well was covered with elamation that was stifled on Mrs. Tressell’s
a heavy rowth of bushes and vines. This, lips as the cloth was thrown over her head.

he hopedg, might screen him from the search She was so nearly smothered that it was
of his pursucrs. with difficulty she could breathe. Much less

But he heard the voices of the men in the I could she speak, and she kept silence, held
ron he had 'ust left, cursing and wonder- ' by two of the men, while two went in pursuit
ing what had ecomc of him. of Tip.

After a brief search in the house they She heard their shouts and curses as they
dashed a door open, came out, and looked ‘followed and searched for the boy, and she
across the old field to the thicket in which ‘ trembled with fear for what might happen to
Ganymede had hid, but saw nothing of the him.
flli-Iitive. After a while they returned, and her fears

“Curse that boyl" exclaimed one. " We were not allayed by the report they made.
were fools to grab the old woman before he “I reckon that youngster has gone under,"
came out. He didn’t hide in the house, and said one of them. ” It seems like he jumped

where the —- has he gone to?" out of a window and into an old well, and
“ He couldn’t have reached the brush yon- he must ha’ drownded thar.”
dcr by this time,“ said another. “ We needn’t worry about him,” said the

" Of course he couldn't. Perhaps he ran swarthy man. “ We will be safely out of
around the house.” the way pretty soon. Come along, boys."
'hearch was made in that direction, but But they could not come just then.
Without avail, and the men came back to the Mrs. Tressell, stout and fearless as she
window. was, had fainted when she heard of Tip’s
One of them felt among the tangled vines disaster, and was a dead weight on their
and bushes, and discovered the mouth of the hands.
old well. Their leader uttered an angry oath as they
“Here’s awell, Dave,” said he. “Maybe , lowered her to the ground, and called for
the young cuss umped out of the window, water, and sent one of the men running up

and tumbled in ere. " the road.
“ Let me look." . The old lady had hardly been brought to
Tip felt that the crisis had come, and that her senses when the man returned with a
his only hope was in hiding. ' wagon drawn by two mules, and a led sad-

As soon as he heard a rustling above him, dle horse.
he ducked his head under the water, and Still scarcely conscious, she was lifted into
held his breath. the wagon, which was driven away. pre-
“ I don’t see nothin’ of him,” said the man ceded by the leader of her captors on horse-
above. “It don't look as if he had dropped back.
mhere." Mrs. Tressell was held and sup orted by
“ Let me pitch a rock in." said the other. two of the men. while another ove the

 

 

 

Tip Tresse‘l, the Floater.

 

team up the road until it reached an old
farm road, where it turned off to the left,
following the horseman.
Carefully the saddle horse and the mules
, picked their wa through the somewhat
.g - swampy ground,
‘J that was visible from the ark in the bayou.
 -, Night had been coming on since they left
- the house of the Voudoo Queen, and it was
dark when the
Mrs. Tressell

  
 

got to the old log-house.
had quite recovered her

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
    
  

was led into the house.

She found herself in a large room, unfur
nished, unless a rude bench, and a few
blankets in one comer, might be called fur-
niture.

Three of her captors accompanied her into
this room, and one of them was the tall and
swarthy man who had acted as leader. As
the room was quite dark, he struck a match,
and lighted a wick that was floating in a
gourd cup full of grease.

Up; to this time the old lady had not
ruoken. The three separate’shocks of her
.apture, of the recognition of her son, and
of the report of Tip‘s death in the well, had

,confused and almost stunned her, and she

' did not attempt to struggle against the

destiny which was carrying her on to a fate

that she could not guess at.

(But now she steadied herself against the

. Jog wall of the room, and fixed her piercing
eyes upon the man who had just lighted the

' grease lamp.

I I “Martin Tressell," she said, solemnly and

.. impressively, “what does this mean?”

“ It means business, old lady, and nothing
' but business.”

“ Have I sought for you all these cars, to
be treated in this way? Have I een dc-
ceived by a false report of your sickness, to
be led into a trap? Why have you brought
me here?”

“ Don’t you worry about that.

. You will
" , (1 out soon enou h; I, mean business,
‘tell on.” g

I

, §ou had better be careful, Martin Tres-
sell. You are committing a crime, and one
,. crime leads to another. ”

“It may, if I am worried. Look after
her, boys. I can’t stay here and listen to
that racket.”

’ Martin Tressell hurried out of the room.
and passed into another apartment. The
log-house was what is known as a double
house, with two rooms on the ground floor
separated by a wide and open passage, and
' two rooms above. ’
‘~* In the room across the passage a man was
pacing the reush floor. frown-

 

own to the old log-house.

‘ senses, if not her strength, by this time. She ‘
was assisted to alight from the wagon, and ‘

I
ing and muttering to himself. It was Billy
Kelioe, the Memphis gambler.

He looked up quickly as Martin Tressell
gntered, and forced a smile into his frowning

ace.

“Well, Tressell, have you got her?” he
i asked.

_ “ Yes, she is here, safe enough."

“ What are you going to do with‘her? Do
you meanto keep her in this house?”

“ No. 1 don‘t want to keep her even to-
night, as it is too near that cursed flatboat.
But it is as dark as pitch, and I don‘t believe
anybody will try to worry us just yet. But
a boy who was with her got away, if he
wasn‘t killed; and anyhow they will be likely
to bring the country down on us to-morrow.
So I must slip her off into the swamp as soon
as there is light enough. What do you think,
Bill ?—the boy was the same follow me met
in lemphis—the one you stared at so, and
spoke of as having such a bright face. ”

“ That’s queer. How does the old lady
take it, Martin? Is she at all docile?”

“ Not much. She is going to cut up rusty
and will 've me all the trouble she can.
But I wil bring her to terms before I get
through with her.”

“ Of course, you must get her away from
here as soon as on can. I will go to the
swamp with you in the morning, Martin.”

Martin Tressell‘s face changed, and the
look that came into it bodcd no good to his
companion.

“ You will?” he replied, with a sneer. “ I
. guess not." .

“ What do y0u mean by ‘guess not‘?"

“ 1 mean that you won’t do anything of the
sort. I am not going to give away the secret

, of my place to anybody outside of my own
‘ crowd, who know better than to betray me.”
‘ “ Am I not a partner in this business?”

“A sort of a partner. I told you that

when I brou rht the old lady to terms I would

! pay you all owe you, and give you a big
bonus besides. That is all you have to do
with the matter. You may goback to Mem-
phis, or go where you please, but you don’t 1
go with me. You were’considerable of a
circumstance in Memphis, but down here you
don’t amount to a row of pins. I am the
boss here, and my word is law.”

“ So you say; but I am going to the swamp
with on when you go. ”

“ on are just as much mistaken, Billy

f Kehoe, as if you had cut off your toe for a
‘ soft corn."

Martin Tressell left the room. In each 1
part of the house he had been met by words
that worried him, and he objected to being
worried.

After ascertaininzthat his motherwsswell

 

 

 

 

 

 

l \

 

 

 

 

Tip Treason.

   

r

the floater. 81

 

guarded and cared for he wrapped himsle in
a blanket and laid down in a passage, With a
rifle by his side. .

He was astir as soon as the gray light of
dawn was seen in the sky, and ordered the
mules to be hitched to the wagon.

This was soon done, and Mrs. 'l‘resscl, who
refused to enter the vehicle, was lifted in,
silent but stubborn, her very silence portend~
ing a tough resistance to the plans of her
lawless son.

Martin Tressell was about to mount his
horse when Kehoe came out from the house.

 

“Can you make room for me in the
wagon?” he asked, "or will I have to go
afoot?”

“ You don‘t go with this part , either in
the wagon or ufoot,",rcplicd ll' artin. “I
told you last night that you couldn’t do
that."

“But I mean to go with you, all the
same."

“ I see that you want to make trouble, and
that I can’t allow."

As Martin spoke, he drew nearer to the man
from Memphis.

Suddenly he seized him by the collar, and
with a jerk and a dexterous trip threw him
on the ground.

He spoke to one of his comrades, who
came to his assistance, and the two bound
the prostrate man’s hands behind his back,
and his feet at the ankles.

“Take him inside,“ ordered the leader,
and he was carried into the house and de-
posited on the pile of blankets in the room
that Mrs. Tressell had occupied.

“You will have to admit that I am the
boss here,” said Martin, surveying his help-
less captive.

“l‘will get even with you for this, you

scoundreli” exclaimed Kehoe, gritting his ,

teeth.

“ Get even with your grandmother! Take
it as easy as you can, Billy. Some of us will
turn you loose after a while, if nobody else
comes alon_ to do it."

Martin rcssell mounted his horse and
rode away. followed by the wagon.

They went direct to the cypress swamp,
reaching its somber shade just as dawn was
be inning to break in the eastern sky.

he leader directed one of the men to

drive ofi with the wagon and the saddle

horse, and with the other three he proposed
t0 etrate the swamp.

.Irs. Tressell refused to stir a step; but
this contingency had been provided against.
With two stout poles and a blanket a
stretcher was quickly made. On this the old
Egg. was placed, and was carried by two

 

 
  
  
    
   
 
  
 
 
  
   
  
   
   
   
  
 
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
   
   
 
  

The son whom she had so longlsought, arid
had found to her sorrow, lcd t 0’ way into
the depths of the swamp.

_ CHAPTER XI.
FINDING AN UNCLE.

IT was quite dark when Tip reached the
ilathoat, tired, wet, bruised, and disconso-
late; but all the crew were watching and
waiting for him, and they came forward to
meet him. ,

"What's the matter, Tip?" asked Jesse
Biddals. “ What kept on so long? Why,
be , you are all wet. ¥Vhere is Mrs. Tres- '
sel ?'
, “She‘s been carried ofl," sadly replied

Tip. -

“ Carried off? What do you mean? Tell
us all about it.”

But the lad was nearly used up. He was
taken into the boat, where he was en plied
with dry clothes, and Ganymede gave 'm‘a '.
cup of cofice, and he told his story by
snatches. I

“That is just what. I was afraid of, and
just what I warned the old lady against,” .
said Siddals. “But she is so hard-headed "
that she won’t take advice. It is plain
enough now that the '0b was put up in ‘
Memphis, and I reckon t at the son she has
been lookin’ for, was the man who had put

“That tall man with the dark face and ‘
black hair was the boss of the gang,"re-
marked Tip. “ He was the same man that I_ *
saw there in the mornin , and the same man‘ ’ -‘
that Adam and I met in emphis. Iwonder ‘
if he is my dad?” ' f ’ j._

” It is quite likely that he is, Tip, and you.
have no cause to be proud of him.’ » I‘

“ I don’t seem to be fretting after him; but '
I am badly worried about grandma. " ,

What should be done to get Mrs. Tressellr’” _ '
out of the trap into which she had fall

 

on”.
was the immediate question at issue, and it
puzzled the wits of the crew of the I

“Search.” ,  ‘

It was agreed that nothing could be ac-~ ’r
complished that night, as it was so dark that‘
they could hardly see their hands bcfo ._
them, and they could only,discuss plans‘
action for the mornin .

Ti could ive no idea of the manner in
whic the ol lady had been carried awai, o
of the direction which her captors had ta on, .
as he was at the bottom of the well when,
they left the house. ,,

“But that yellow woman knows," said he,
“ and we must make her tell us.”  ,
This suited Jesse Biddals exactly, and h
goposed that they should “ stl'ing up"V-Ro

ichon until thev extorteda confession t

 

Tip Tree-ell, the Floater.

 

"No, nol" exclaimed Gan ede. "Yo‘ This was somethln unexpected and site-
mustn’ do dat. She‘s my mu der. She was . gether surprising, an they hastened to untie

ine to roast me, but she‘s my mudder. him and ask him who he was and how he
Sides dat. she’s got de debbil to help her.” . came there.

Tip declared that he had no fear of her \thn he was loose he broke out into such
snakes and witch stun, but was of the opin— ; a furious storm of oaths and denunciations
ion that the truth oould be got out of her I of Martin Treslell that it was some time be-
without resorting to violence. i fore he became calm enough to make a state-

“ Dere vas a besser vay as dot,” observed meat of his case.

Adam Stocker, who had been ruminating in I “M name is Kehoe, and I belong in
silence. “ You see dot house ofer dere? i Memp 's,” he said.

You don’t see it now; aber you see it ven “Dot vas so,” observed Adam. “Tip, ve
day makes. Dose schcoundrels belong by recomembers dot man. Vot makes you here,
dot house, I bets you. Ven dey takes der hey?"

long vay ’rount, ve takes der short vay across, ” That infernal scoundrel, Martin Tres-
oond ve goes by dot house ven it makes sell, stole my wife. She ran away with him,
day.” and I came down here to look for her. lie

“That's the ticket for soupl” shouted Mike i caught me, and tied me up as you found me,
Rafferty. “ We will cut across lots, and i and left me here to starve.”
shtorm the fort, and it’ll be quare if we The man’s stor might be true. The fact
don’t kctch somethin’." that he was foun tied gave it at least a color

Adam Stocker‘s plan was finally approved I of truth. But before he Could be questioned
of, and the ark prepared to make an early 7 any further, all were startled by ashout from
start in the search for Mrs. Tressell. ; Mike ltaiIerty, who was outside.

At daybreak the next morning they had “ Here comes the ixiixnyl Bring out the
their breakfast, and Ganymede put up a cold guns, b’yesl Right-shoulder shift! Forrud,
lunch for each of them. He was persuaded by tile leftl Give ’em fitsi”
to remain and watch the boat, but with dif- All ran out, and saw two men riding across
flcult , as he had serious fears that the Vou- the old field toward the house. They were
doo uccn might find him and roast him. well mounted, and appeared to be peacefully

The others went ashore and struck out for inclined, though each of them carried a rifle.
the old low-house, armed with three rifles “We can take care of them easy enough,
and a pistol), the last named weapon forming whoever they are,” said Siddals. “ Stop your
the armament of Mike Ralferty. howlin’, Mike, and let them come on.”

“ We don’t seem to have any notion how The two strangers hesitated, and seemed to
many of the scamps there are in that gang,” be in doubt as to What the should do. But
observed Jesse Siddals. “Tip says there ' the friendly gestures of esse Siddals, and
were only four who sprung the trap on the the absence of all warlike demonstrations,
old lady, but it was considerable of a crowd caused them to ride warily on, until they
that tackled us 11 the river, and I reckon reached the group at the house.
those are some 0 the same. But we must One of them, who was dark-skinned and
chance them, and play our hand for all it is coarsely dressed, was evidently a. native of
worth.” the region and a resident. I‘he other, a

“Dot vos so,” sententiously remarked youngr man who wore a business suit and
Adam Stocker. "Aber ve finds dcm first." :1 Derby hat, was as evidently more at home

When they came near to thelog-house Sid- in the city than in the country.
dais took command of the part , and under 116 was the spokesman of the strangers, and
his directions they separated an approached addressed himself to Jesse Siddals.
the building on each of its four sides, ad- “ I see a flatboat down yonder,” said he.
vancing skirmisher fashion and concealing “Do any of you happen to belong to it?”
their movements as well as they could. “ All of us but one,” replied Siddals.

Thus they got Within a few rods of the "1 am glad to meet you, then. If that
house without being hailed or fired upon. boat is called the ‘ Search,“ I am looking for

Tip was the first to storm the fort. its owner, Mrs. Eliza Tressell."

Judging that if there were any enemies in “ That is just what we are lookin’ for, sir.
the house the would have made their res- The old lady has been gobbled up and car-
ence known, e made a rush and reache the ried oil by a gang of scoundrcls.”

open hall, and his example was quickly 1‘01- “lndeedi That is precisely what I had
lowed by the others. feared, and I came here to try to prevent it."

They found the house deserted, with the “You are a leetle bit too late, sir. But

 

 

exception of one room, in which a bound and ’light down and come in, and let us talk the

help

ess man was seated on a pile of blankets. matter over.”

    

   

mD‘

Tip Tressell. the Floater. :3

 

The two strangers hitched their horses,l
and all entered the house, including Billy
Kchoe.

“M name is George Aglar, and I live in
Memp is,” said the youn gentleman. “I
am a sort of left—hande relative of Mrs.
Tresscll‘s. In fact, to sister married her
son: but the less said 0 that the better."

Tip opened his eyes wide, and Billy Kehoe
looked closely at the youno man. ‘

“I ha pened to hear In Memphis," he ‘
said, “ o a plot to capture Mrs. Tresscll,
which was to he carried into effect at Bayou
Tunison, and I thought it my duty to come i
down here and try to defeat it. But I rieve
to learn that I am too late. Please to me
when and how she was taken away.” ,

“You ain't too late to be of use," said.
Jesse Siddals, and he proceeded to tell what
had happened to the ark until she reached
her moorings in Bayou Tunison.

Then Tip took up the story.

“ Grandma sent me—” he began.

“What do you mean by ‘grandma’l”i
quickly asked George Aglar. “ Who 15 your *
grandma?"

“Why, Mrs. Tressell. At least, she says
she is. "

“Is it possible that you are Martin Tres-
scll‘s son?”

“ Grandma says so. "

"Did you live up the Ohio? Did you ship
on a flatboat to go south?”

" Yes, sir.”

"Why, Martin Tressell told me that you
were drowned. He said that he had that
news from one of the crew of the flatboat.”

“ I reckon he believed it. I slipped over-
board at night, and swam ashore; but I didn’t
get drowned.”

“Thank God! What glorious news this
will be for m sisterl Your motherisliving,
my boy, and am your uncle George!"

CHAPTER XII.
AT THE swam ISLAND.

Tim route which Mrs. Tressell’s captors
followed into the swamp was a very difficult
one, and it would have been impossible tol
traverse it at night, as in places there was ,
no path at a“. and the men who carried.
the stretcher had no little difficulty in mak- ‘
ing their way, stepping from hummock to'1
hummock, or from one bunch of cypress
“ knees” to another.

The swamp forest was gloomy 1n the ex-
treme, the tsl and dark cypresses standing
closely together, heavily clothed with hang- .‘
ing moss, and the black and stagnant water‘
spread out on each side of the path. Water i
snakes coursed here and there, moccasin
snakes were stretched on lo 8 and hum-
mocks. and the cran of rogs and the

 

 

 

harsh cries of waterfowl sounded strange
and weird enough.

There was no chance for the old lady to
secs e, and she made no attempt to do so,
but y quietly on the stretcher, giving no
heed to the oethl end grumbling of the
men who were carrying her. She was bein
taken into the hump egsinst her will, so
would not move I finger to help her captors
to sin their ends.

t last they reached their destination, an
island in the midst of the swamp, about an
sore in extent.

Here were two rude log-houses, and a
tent made of blankets, shaded and partly
concealed by the trees.

In an open I ace a bright fire was burn-
ing, and over t was a pot, hanging from
a Icross-piece supported by two crotchcd

0 es. -

When the stretcher was set dowu, Mrs.
Tressell arose and walked to the fire to warm
herself, not that the Weather was at all cold,
but because the damp air of the swamp had
affected her unpleasantly.

As she did so she came face to face with a
woman who was approaching the tire with
In armful of wood.

This was not an ill-looking woman. In
fact, it was easy to see that she could once
have boasted of bein$ pretty. But her face
then had what may 8 called I hard look,
apart from the tan which had been caused
by exposure to the weather, and which was
not sufficient to conceal the sallow and un-
healthy Iook of her skin.

Mrs. Tressell looked inquiringly at this
woman, who stared at her in turn; but nci-
ther of them spoke.

Martin Tressell had been givina’ directions
to two of the men who came wit him, and
they now stepped up to the old lady, took
her by the arm, and led her away to one of
the log-houses.

She was ushered into a small room, which
was roughly and scantily furnished. There
was s rude bed, a table made of a split log,
and some blocks for seats.

Breakfast was soon brought in to her, and
a ood breakfast it was. She ate it with
relish, and felt stronger to meet the trials
that awaited her.

Shortly after she had finished her break-
fast Martin Tressell came in, lighted a pipe,
and seated himself on one of the blocks.

“Now, old lady," said he, “we will pro-
ceed to business.”

She looked at him sorrowfully and se-
verely.

“Is this my son?" she asked. “Is this
the boy I loved so Well, and hoped would
grow up to be my pride and joy?’ ’

" Yes. I so: your son. and you neednt go

 

 
  
 
  

 

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Tip Treason. the Floater.

 

  
  
  
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
   
  
 
   
    
    
  
  
  
  
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
 
   
   
   
   
    
 

to switching about it.

trie

a man grown. N 0 man of spirit could stand

that sort of thing, and I quit 01f.”

“ Martin, I was_only acting for your ood,
not to please myself. I saw that you d a
passion for gambling—4t was born in you—
and I wanted to save you from the fate of
your father. ”

“The fate of my father?” he replied, with
a sneer. “I know something about that m -
self. My father was the best poker-player in
Mississippi. He followed the game as a
business, and made a fortune at it. You in-
duced him to leave you all his mone , when
it should have been left to me, an now I
mean to come in for my share.”

“If that is your opinion, Martin; you
know nothing about the matter. You have
been wrongly informed. Your father had
some property when I married him, but lost
it all by gambling, and my money would
have been swept away if I had not kept it
out of his reach. All the roperty I have is
mine in my own right. t is true that his
will was in my favor, but he had nothing
left to will."

“ That won’t do, old lady. I don’t like to
dispute our word, but that won’t go down
at all. y father would never have made a

I willif he ad'had no property. He wasn’t
that kind of a man. You have at it all,
and. I mean to have my share, an the big-

- .gest share at that. You will have to make

me sure of two-thirds of it before you leave

this place. ”.

"My son, I have sought on for years,
hOping to help you to lead a etter life. At
Memphis I was informed that you were sick
down here, and I came at once to aid you.
Is it possible that you sent me that false re-
‘, port for the base purpose which you now
express?” ,

“ Yes, I did, and the little game has work-
ed well, too.” ,

“ You are a worse man than I‘had feared
on were. You have sunk very low, Martin
ressell.”

« “You are right, old lady. I am a gam-
. bler, and I drink hard, and I have been a
horse-thief. There are men here in Louisi-
ana who wodld string me up to the nearest
tree if they could catch me. So on see that

KI am adesperate man, and that mean busi-

’ ness. If I have sunk low, I must have

money to rise on.” '

l " oney to squander. You shall have
none of mine while you continue your pres-
,ent courses. My will is made, and I defy
you to touch any of my property.”

 

I I am the son you[
to treat as a baby or a girl when he was I

 

." We will see about that.”
,,“Msrtin Tressell,” said the old lady. as,

 

 

 

she pointed her forefinger at him, "do on
know that you killed your son yesterday ”

“My son? What son?”

“ Tipton Tressell, your own son—the b0
you left with a man up the Ohio. e
shipped on a flatboat, and jumped overboard
in the Mississip i, and I found him floating
in the river. 'Ie was with me yesterday,
and one of your rascals said that he had
jumped into a well and drowned. If that is
the case, his blood is on your head.”

“ I don‘t feel it there,” rudely replied
Martin, “and I don’t believe a word you
say. That boy was drowned some time ago.
Anyhow, you don‘t leave this place until
you come to my terms." ' ,

He rose from his seat, and went to the
door.
"Can I walk out?" she asked. “I need
exercise.”

“Yes, if you choose. I'am not afraid of
your gettin away from this island. ”

She laid down on the bed, to take the rest
that she needed quite as much as she needed
exercise, and it was not until she had eaten
her dinner that she sallied out to walk.

The fire was out, and there were but a few
men visible on the swamp island, who took
no notice of her.

She peered into the other log-cabin, and
there she saw two men lying on the floor,
and a third was applying oil and flour to
their faces and hands. . -

“Ah!” she muttered, “now I know who
it was that attacked. the ‘Search’ up “the
river, and those are victims of the hot water
en ine.’?

aha started to circumnavi to the island,
which was an easy,thing to o, and under a
thick clump of bushes she suddenly came
glpon the woman whom she had met at the

e

The woman was seated on the turf, lean- ’

ing her head on her hand, and seemed to be
meditatin sorrowquy. She was startled
by Mrs. ressell’s approach, and looked up
quickly. The old la , with a kindly smile,
took a seat on the grass at her side.

“Are you his mother?" she asked.

“ I am themother of Martin Tressell.”

i‘ I thought so. He said he was going to

bring on rere. Ireckon he means to give
you a ard time.” ’

“I suppose he will try to. He is a bad
man. Who are you?”

“ Who am I?” re lied the woman, forcing
a laugh. “ I have ad so manyinames that
I scarcely know what to call myself now.
My name was Nancy Rains before I married
a man up the Ohio. I got tired of livin'
with him—it was so lonesome. there—and I

 

 

 

wanted to see somethin’ of the world. So I,

      
   
    

009':—

a‘? we

is

"v1

Tip Treason.

 

the Floater. 35

 

' left him. and after a time I got as far down
i as Memphis,

where I married another
man.”

“ While your first husband was living?”

“What of that? He didn't know, and I
had left him for good. I got on pretty well
with Billy Kehoe until Martin Tressell came
alon —he was called Sam Martin u there.
I fel in love with him, and lie coaxe( me OE
and brought me down here, and I’ve been
here a long time. Don’t you think I’m a
dev11?”

“I think you have been a very reckless
woman, and an unhappy one, I’m afraid. So
you are now Mrs. Tressell ?”

“No, not that. He never married me.
Yep may call me Nancy, if you choose. ”

U Are you fond of my son, Nancy?”

_ Sometimes I am, and sometimes I hate
him. Just now I hate him like p'isen. He
giggide me down and kicked me this morn-

“ He is a terrible man, Nancy. DO you

i know that yesterday he caused the death of

his son ?"

 His son? Who’s that?"

“ His own son, Tipton Tressell?"

_Not little Tip, who was raised up the
Ohio With Abe Trotter? Did he have black
hair and eyes and a queer little mole on his
right cheek—a regular beauty spot?”

es.”

:jThat‘s little Tip, Martin Tressell’s son."

“ W at do you know about him, Nancy?”

Why, I was Abe Trotter's Wife. Martin
Tressell left Tip, with us when he was a bit
of a thing, and I would have run awa from
Abe Trotter sooner than I did if I adn‘t
hated to leave the young one. Is he dead,
poor Ti ”

Mrs. ressell told the story of her visit to
the Voudoo ueen and her capture there,
and Nancy rotter was greatly moved by
the recital.

“ Do on want to stay here with my son,
Nancy? ’ asked the old lad .

Do I want to be a drud e and a slave, to
sanctified and kicked about No, you bet
' “You must know this count well, and tht
ins and outs of this swamp. I on will help
me to_ get away from here I wil take you 11D
the river, and will help on to lead a better
and leasanter life. I Will reward you well
for a 1 you do for me."

ancy hesitated a moment. Then she
grasped the old lady’s hand.

11 do it 1" she exclaimed.

CHAPTER XIII.
A rum m A swm.
WEEK Tim had discovered his Uncle George
Aklar. he took along look at him. and scratched

 

f,

-~ I.’

his head vigorously, to make sure that ho was
not dreaming.

Then he reeommenced his story, and brought
it down to the capture of the logrhouse.

“I reckon that man yonder can give us the
rest of the yarn as far as anybody here knows
it,” remarked JJesse Siddals, pointing to Billy
Kehoe.

“I have no doubt that he can,"said Aglar.

“I have seen him before this. You remember
me, I suppose, Mr. Kehoe?”
‘ I believe I met you in Memphis. Well, gen-
tlemen, i will give you the whole thing, fair
and square, as far as I know anything about
it; but that isn’t very far. Marlin Tressell ran
away with my wife, and I came doWn here to
look her up. He caught me, and tied me and
left me here, as you found me. As for his
carrying 01! Mrs. Tressell, that is a scheme
which I had nothing in the world to do with."

“ Stop ri ht there, Billy Kehoel” said George
Aglar. “ f‘hat won’t do at all. I hap en to
know that the plot for her ca ture was ormed
in your rooms. Martin Tresse l invented it, and
you assented to it. You were to furnish him with
money to carry it out, and he (promised that in
the event of success he woul pay you all he
owed you and give you a bonus.

Billy Kelioe stared at the young gentlemen,
and there could be no doubt that his amazement
was genuine.

“How in — did you find that outi” he
asked.

“It was my business to look after Martin
Tressell, as you know, and that plot is what
brought me here. You had better tell us the
truth plainly and fully.”

“ on have got me there, Mr. Aglar, for a
fact; but that was all I had to do with the job. I
meant to tell you all I knew, outside of that

oint. My real object was to get even with

ressell for stealing my wife. and that is what
brought me here. Martin Tressell and three
other men came here last evening, in a wagon,
bringing the old lady. They stop ed here last
night, and this morning early t ey took her
into the swamp. I wanted to go with them;
but I suppose 'I‘ressell guessed what I was after,
and he swore I should not. When I started to
go in s ite of him, they’Filed on me, and tied
me, am left me here. hat, gentlemen, is as
square as a die, and is all I know about the
matter, except that they Went oil’ in a wagon,
and we ongh to be able to track them.”

“It seems so,” said Aglar. “Well, Bill
Kehoe, how do you feel toward Marlin Tressel

W

“ I hate him like a rattlesnake, and I wish I
had him tied to a tree, so that I could shoot him
full of lead.”

“ We are not quite so savage as that; but we
must find him. Are you willing to help us?"

“ Yes, indeed."

“ Can we trust you i"

“ You can bet on me, gentlemen, as you
would on a straight flush.”

“ Are you armed i”

“ They left me my revolver.”

” All right. We will give you schemes to get
even. Now, my friends, the day is advancing,

 

and we have no time to lose. We must go into

 

96

Tip TresSell, the Floater.

 

that swamp, and strike the scoundrels on their
own ground. I will warrant that my guide,
Chnrley Beale, can follow their trail."

The wagon tracks were easy enough to follow
over the soft ground, and the party soon reached
the edge of the swamp.

There the marks of the wagon turned, and
pointed in a southerly direction: but it was
plain. from the tracks of the horses and men,
that Martin Tressell’s people had stopped there
for some time, and it was easy to conjecture
that the team had been sent away, while the
party had entered the swamp.

Charley Beale studied the track, and soon
found the trail that led into the swamp.

“Come on, fellersl” he ordered. “ If we
can’t foller a trail that a woman has gone on,
we had better go home and soak our heads.”

He started in, and the others followed.

The party then numbered five men and two
boys, five of them armed with rifles, and they
considered themselves quite a formidable force.

They had got well into the forest, but had not

 

{let reached the swamp, when a word from ‘

ike Rafferty, who was in the rear, brought
them to a halt.

“Hould on, b’yesl There’s a chap comin’
down the field!”

“ Hide, every one of lyou!” ordered Jesse
Eiddgls. “ If it’s one of t e gang we must git

1CD.

Instantly they scattered, and took cover
under bushes and at the trunks of trees, the
tall lumberman concealing himself behind a big
cypress that grew at the side of the trail.

As Siddals conjectured, the man who was
approaching them was the one who had been
sent away with the wagon, and who was then
returning to his comrades.

He came on briskly, unsm icious of danger,
whistling as be walked, an turned into the
path that led to the swamp.

As he passed the big cypress, Siddals uietl
stepped out, seized him by the collar, ant Wit
a. 'erk threw him backward on the ground.

e was disarmed of his revolver, and was
stood upon his feet, while the others came out
and gathered around him.

“ Let me have him," said Charley Beale. “I
know the rascal. Look here, you infernal horse-
thief! We know who you are, and whar you
are goin’. We are goiu’ thar, too, and you’ve
got to show us the way. Lead on, now, and if
you tr to cut and run, or to swindle us in any
waly, will blow a hole through you i”

he guide’s determined tone and cocked re-
volver left the fellow no choice. He turned
without a word and led the way into the swamp,
closely followed by Beale.

The trail was a blind and difficult one; but it
was clear that the man in the lead knew it well
enough. Occasionally, when there seemed to be
no longer apath, Bea e sus cted that the forced

 

guide was leading the par y astray' but. when
6 was halted and confronted with a leveled
pistol, he protested his good faith so earnestly
hat he was allowed to proceed.

As they advanced, the funereal darkness of
the dense forest, the black water stretching out

 

under the overhan infi trees, and the numerous
forms of reptile life t at pervaded the swamp. ,

were disagrees.ny strange to those who had
never before witnessed such a scene, and were
almost terrifying to Mike Raflert .

“ Howly St. Pathrickl” groans the Irish lad.
“Sure yez was dead an’ burrid afore iver this
bloody counthry was made, and the divil got
hould av it from the start. chl wirra, wirral
I wish I’d gone to be a saint in glory afore I
shtuck me fut in it at all at all i"

“ Hush your howling, and come on i” ordered
Jesse Siddals. “ There’s nothin’ here that’ll
hurt you if you mind your footin’ and keep your
eyes peeled."

Finally the forced guide stopped suddenly,
and ointed ahead.

“ here’s the island,” he said, almost in a
whisper.

The men behind him could plainly see a piece
of ground considerably higher than the swamp,
and covered with trees an bushes of a difl'erent
character from the usual swamp rowth.

“ Tell him to go on,” ordered esse Siddals,
and Charley Beale leveled his revolver and re-
peated the order.

“ I can’t do that.” protested the man. “ They
will shoot me the first one. Please don’t make
me do that!”

Hardly were the words out of his mouth when
a rifle cracked on the island. and a. bullet struck
him in the breast. He fell backward on the
narrow path, and rolled over into the water.

“ Scatter!” shouted Siddals, and they did
scatter with amazin suddenness.

The leader and C nrley Beale jumped upon
hummocks, and sheltered themselves behind
cypress trunks. Tip caught the low branch of
a live oak, and swung himself up into the tree,
and his example was followed by George Aglar.
Adam Stocker, after floundering in a hog, found
a. refuge at the foot of the same tree. Billy
Kehoe lay flat on the path, and Mike Rafferty
ste ped quickli to the rear.

bouts were eard on the island; but the man
who fired the fatal shot was the only one who
had yet seen the advancing arty, and there
was no further demonstration rom that quarter
until the assailants had got into cover.

Tip brought his rifle to his shoulder as soon as
he had planted himself securely in a fork of the
live oak, and looked for a victim.

He soon found one and took a deliberate aim.
His rifle cracked, and a yell followed the report.

_(;I‘hen there was close and rapid firing on both
si es.

The defenders of the island hurried to the
threatened point, and from the covar of logs
and trees endeavored to pick off their enemies
who were scattered about the swamp.

Thus each side was well protected, and the
contest became a game of marksmanship.
Whenever a head or an arm was exposed a
bullet whiued toward it, and whenever a flash
was seen it was at once fired at.

After nearly an hour of this exercise no casu-
alties worth mentioning had been sustained by
Siddal’s party, and it was impossible for them
to judge how much injury they had inflicted
upon their foes.

They judged that there were but few of the
marauders on the island, from the weakness of
their fire; but the trouble was to get at them.

    

  

{
g
2
l
l
I

I
l
I

 
   
   
 

  

    
 

   

A AA h—I. .1-1-5-1

Tip Tressell.

 

I
Advancing on the path in single file was out of
the question, and it seemed to be impossible to
attack them by crossing the swamp.

Jesw Sidduls made the attempt, leaping from
hummock to hinanCk and from Iree to tree;
but he slipped into the marsh, and had great
difficulty in extricating himself. Before he re-
gained his shelter he received a severe wound
in the arm.

'lhen the fire from the island slackened, as if
its defenders had come to the conclusion that
they were wasting ammunition.

biddals passed the word to retire out of range,
kl‘cpmg in cover as much as possible, and set
the example, which was speedily followed by
the others.

A few shots hastened their steps; but the
were soon out of the reach of bullets and sa 0
on a dry spot which Mike Rafferty had occu-
pied durin the engagement.

The lea er’s arm was dressed as well as it
could be, and George Aglnr asked him the rea-
son of the order to retreat.

“ We can’t do unythin’ more here today," he
replied.
out of this.”

‘fThat’s so,” said Charley Beale. “ I wouldn’t
be in here after dark for any money. All hell’s
awake in this Swamp when night comes.”

“ I'don’t like to leave that poor devil who was
shot in front of us,” remarked Apiar.

:2 Why, he’s dead enough," replied Siddnls.

Yes, but we ought to bring him away and
ury him."

"‘ Not if we know ourselves, said Beale. “The
dirty horse-thief has got as good a burial as he
deserves, and he had an easier death than he
(Fight to have ex ected. It won’t do for honest
live men to risk t eir skins for a dead rascal. "

So the dead rascal was left in the swamp, and
the honest live men picked their way out of it.

CHAPTER XIV.
ESCAPE AND PURSUIT.
MRS. TRESSELL was rejoiced when her com-
Pumon uttered the welcome words “ I willl"
She alread half believad that she was safe,
223?: she wo d escape from the clutches of her

:2 What shall we do?” she asked.

Iknow a way out of this swam ,” replied
Nancy Trotter. “But it is a bar road to
travel, and we may have to hide out over night.

on had better go back to the house, or loaf
about the island, so that Martin sha’n’t suspect.
I Will go and get ready something for us to eat
On the way as we can’t afford to go hungry.
Come back ere in about half an hour and we
Will start when I see a good chance.”

Nancy walked back to the camp, as the little

 

' settlement in the center of the island was called,

haliikgd
There she found Martin Tressell, and found
him in an ill-humor.
““ here have you been i” he demanded.
“ Just loaflng about,” she answered.
You mustn’t loaf about too much, as you
Elfiinwork to do. Who is the boss here, you

“ I suppose you are.” she sulleuly replied.

and went direct to the tent which she then in-

“ Night is coniin’ on, and we must get ,

the Floater. B?

 

“ You suppose so! Don’t you know yet!"

He emghasizvd this question by a blow in her
face wit the flat of his hand, which nearly
knocked the woman down.

“ I give in, Martin," she said, with a hysteri-
cal lnugh. “ You are the boss."

“ See that you remember that.”

“ Say. Martin, mayn’t I have a little of your
whisky!"

“ Whisky? What do you want of whisky!"

“ To take my quinine with.”

i ” Yes. As you are docile now, you may take
the pint bottle in there and fill it from my cask.
But if you ever touch a. drop without asking
me. you will be sorry for it."

i b As she turned to go into the tent, he stopped

or.

“‘Nuncy, have you seen the old lady?” he

asked.

i “I su pose it was her that I saw walking
about a it ago.”

‘ " She is getting to be an old woman. Do

i you think she can stand it to stay in this
swamp?" -

“I don’t believe she will stay here long,” re-
plied Nancy.

, “ i reckon I had better hurry trip things.”

‘ He walked away, and Nancy rotter entered

1 the tent, where she got the liquor she had asked
for and laced the bottle in her bosom.

| hen s e cut some bread and meat, which she
put in the pocket of herdress, and sauntered oil‘
as if with no definite object.

i Mrs. Tressell had walked back to the log-
house. but the place gave her the horrors and
she did not enter it.

3 She peered in at the other log-cabin, looking!r
closely at the scolded men on the floor, and

‘ then wandered aimlessly about the island.

‘ She saw her son walking away from Nancy’s

‘ tent, but she did not care to meet him, and he
was not yet ready to " hurry up things."

When the allotted half hour was up, she cir-

- cled around until she reached the clump of
bushes where she was to meet Nancy.

She found her new friend waiting for her
there, and learned that she had brought, besides
the promised provisions, two heavy blankets,

I which she had concealed under her clothing.

“I saw Martin, and he hit me a ain.’ she

said. “But he won’t be likely to o it any
more.”
“ He is a brute, Nancy. 1 hate to so it of my

own son: but he is the meanest kind 0 a brute.
When can we start?”

“ Pretty soon, I hope. Do you feel strong
enough for a real rough tramp over the worst
kind of a soft and slippery track?"

“ I feel strong enough to do anything but stay
here—anything that will take me away from
this lace and out of this swam .”

“ will hide these things, then, and will look
around a bit to see if anybody is watching us.
Harkl What’s that?”

. It was the re ort of a rifle, sounding from an-

‘ other part of t e island and was followed by
shouts and other noises that spoke of great ex-
citement.

The solitary report was soon succeeded by
other shots, and then there was rapid and con-
tinuous firinx.

 

       

28

 

Tip Tresoell. the Floater.

  

 

“ It’s a fight i” exclaimed Nancy. “ It can’t be
that Martin’s men have got into a quarrel."

“ It must be my friends who are attacking the
island,” said Mrs. Tressell. “ Perhaps, Nancy,

Tip is not dead.”
‘ Dear little Tip!”

I hope not.

“Humphl He is not so very little. If he is
alive, you may be sure that one of those rifles is
his. e was smart enough to get away, and
how else could the people on my boat have
found out so soon what had he penc-d to me and
where I had been taken to? ancy, Tip must be
alive.”

“ Well, Mrs. Tressell, while the men are busy
over there we have a good chance to get away
without being seen. Come, let’s gol”

“Not yet. My friends may win the fight and
take the island, and then they will come and
help us.”

‘ Don’t you bet a cent on that. They can’t
set foot on thisisland, whoever they are. It has
been tried by bigger crowds than they’ve got.
Come, let’s start while we can.”

The old lady was unwilling then to leave the
island, but yielded to the arguments and per-
suasions of Nancy, who led the way upon a nar-
row path that started out from that point.

This path was nearly similar to that by which
Mrs. Treell had been brought to the island,
though it was considerably longer and more
circuitous, and Nancy assured her companion
that it issued from the swamp by the side at
which she had entered it.

Their progress was slow enough, but soon the
dense and dark masses of trees shut the island
from their view. The firing continued, but
gradually weakened, and finally ceased alto-
ge er.

“ Perhaps my friends have won the fight and
taken the island,” said Mrs. Tressell.

” Not abit of it, ” replied Nancy. “ That don’t
lie in their boots, I tell you. More likely they
have got tired and quit the job. ”

Then a few dropping shots told of the end of
the engagement.

“ Yes, that’s just the way of it, and I’ll bet on
it,” said Nanc . “ Now we must get on as fast
as we can, as am afraid that Martin will miss
us and come hot foot on our trail.” v

The old lady did her best, and stood up to the
work bravely; but the somber gloom of the
cypress forest, and the other horrors of the
swamp, added to the difficulties of the narrow
and uncertain pathway, were too much for her
physical strength.

Her will kept her up when her bodily endur-
ance was almost at an end, and she tottered on,
holding Nancy Trotter’s hand, until she was
scarcely able to put one feet before another.

She was on the verge of fainting, when her
companion revived her with a drink of the
liquor which she had begged from Martin
Tremell.

“Tr to hold up net a few minutes longer,”
urged ancy. “ On y a little bit further, and
we will reach a dry 8 0t where we can ass the
night. I thought 0 that before we
island, as I didn’t believe that you could go
through without resting, even if we should have
do. light enough to reach the main land.”
deed. the darkness of the cypress forest

oft the A

 

was increasing, as night was coming on ru idly
and it was not very easily that they cou ll see
their way when they reached the “ dry spot "
of which Nancy had spoken. It was a little
oasis in the desert of swamp, so thickly covvi'ed
with trees and bushes as to be almost impene-
trable.

Into this jungle Nancy plushed her way, drag-
ging the old lady after er, until they found
an open spot where they could sit down.

Then she made Mrs. Tremell taste the liquor
and eat some bread and meat, not forgetting to
do the same herself. '

“ I wish I dared to light a fire,” she said;
“ but I don’t, as I am every minute afraid that
Martin Tressell is on our track. Look! What‘s
that?”

A light was moving rapidly toward them,
across the swamp, from the direction of the
island.

“ Perhaps it is a Will-o’-the—wisp,” suggested
Mrs. Tressell.

“Will-o’-notbin’l It is Martin Tressell with
alantern. \Vait a bit. Yes, i am sure now.
It isa man, and of course it is Martin. He may
look in here, and we must hide close. Come
with me.”

Across a corner of the little island a large
tree had fallen, and behind this the two women
concealed themselves, creeping close to the
trunk, and preserving absolute silence.

After awhile they heard a trampling among
the bushes, and saw the light of a lantern. They
also reco ized the voice of Martin Tressell and
his favorite oaths.

“They ain’t here,” he said at last. “If they
have gone on I will be sure to overhaul them.
It would bee. flne joke on me if they haven’t
left the island.”

Nancy watched the lantern until it was out of
sight, and then the two women wra ped them-
selves in their blankets, and slept bind the
fallen tree until daybreak.

After breaking their fast they set out again.

" I suppose he hnsgiven us up and gone back,”
said Nancy. “Anyhow, we must risk it.”

After a toilsome trump they reached the firm
land, and rejoiced that they were clear of the
swamp.

“Thank God that we are safe at last!" ex-
claimed the old lady.

She heard a low laugh near her, looked around,
anfii. found herself face to face With Martin Tres-
so

 

CHAPTER XV.
BILLY Kanoa’s nave-non.

IT was nearly dark when Jesse Siddals and his
party got out the swamp, and they were all
pretty much dissatisfied with the result of their
endeavors.

“What is going to be the next move!” asked
George Aglar.

“We must cam out here in the 01d field to-
night,” replied Si dais. “There ain’t any snakes
about here exce t water moccasins, and they
won’t be likely 0 come out of the swamp to
bother us.”

“But what shall we do in the morning?”
“In the morning, it you folks agree to it. we

      

  

      
 

J.

‘vav ..

't.

Tip Tressell, the Floater. ' 29

will go into the swamp and have another shy at
those scoundrels. We know where they are
now, and can find some way to get at them. I
can’t use my left arm, but can manage a rifle
well enough with my right hand and shoulder."

The leader’s arm was dressed and put in a
sling. and then the party, after doing justice to
a portion of the provisions that Ganymede had
prepared for them, laid down in the old field to
sleep, with the exception of a guard at the
camp, and a picket down the path at the edge
of the camp.

All were awake at an early hour in the morn-
ing but Tip was ahead of the rest.

8 had taken his rifle and gone on a scout,
skirting the edge of the forest in asoutherly
direction, hopin to find some other route by
which they could
island. .

He returned while the others were eating their
breakfast, and had a strange and startling story
to tell.

About half amile from their cam he had
seen Martin Tressell—if the tall and ark man
whom he had met before was Martin Tressell,
and of that there seemed to be no d0ubt.

Tip had come upon him unawares and would
have been discovered by him if he had not
dodged out of si ht.

Martin Tresse was standing where there was
a sort of break in the timber, and seemed to be
watching for something or waiting for some.
body.

Of course the lad did not care to “tackle”
him; so he hastened back to his companions and
re rted what he had seen.

he camp was at once broken u , and all
marched away with Tip to hunt the c 1in of the
marauders. If they could capture him, they
might count upon effecting the release of Mrs.
Tressell.

Silently and cautiously the followed Tip, un-
til he motioned to them to slt, as the were
near the break in the timber of-which e had

ken.
spgharley Beale, who was supposed to he better
acquainted with the nature of the ground than
the others. was sent on to reconnoiter, and he
moved through the forest as quietly as a ghost,
keeping himself carefully covered, until he came
within view of the spot which Tip had des-
crihed.

He returned in the same style.

“Thar’s more’n we bargained for,” he re-
ported—“ a man and two women.”

Jesse Siddals took command of the party,
and led them around under cover of the trees
until they reached the break in the timber of
which Tip had 5 ken.

Then they a vancad cautiously until the
came in sight of the scene which Beale had a -
ready witnmsed.

Mrs. Tressell lay on the ound, apparently
in a faint, with her head in t 6 lap of another
woman, and Martin was bending over her.

At a signal from their leader the five rifle-
men covared Martin Tressell with their loaded
weapons.

He heard the rustling of the leaves and the
clicking of the locks, and rose quickly.

As he rose he drew a revolver.

cross the swamp and reach the.

 

“Drop that pistol and throw up your handsl”
ordered Siddals. “'You see that we've got the
dead wood on you.”

There could be no question of that. One
man.with a revolver could not think of con—
tendinga uinst five men with rifles, and Mar-
tin Tresse 1 saw that his game was up.

His revolver fell to the ground, and his hands
were raised above his head.

Charley Beale stepped forward and tied his
hands behind his back, and the crew of the
“Search” went to the nssisrance of Mrs. Tres-
sel] who looked like a dead woman.

Nancy Trotter gave them her whisky bottle
and the old lady’s face and hands were rubbed
With the strong stimulant, and a few drops
were forced into her mouth. Gradually sho re-
Vivcd, and after a while was able to sit up.

“ What does this mean?" she asked. “ Adam
Stocker‘ is that you? And you, too, Siddalsl
Why, Tip is really alive. Thank goodness for
that!”

“ Is that little Ti l"
“Yes, it is. I know him by his hair and eyes,
and b that funny little mole on his cheek.
Yes, t at is Martin Tressvll’s son, that was left
with us when he was such a little chap.”

“You see, Martin, that you did not cause the
death of your son,” said the old lady. “You
ought at least to be thankful for that."

“ I see nothing to be thankful for," be rough-
ly replied. “ I don’t care a straw for the
brat."

Tip took no more notice of his alleged father
than if he had not been there. .

Billy Kehoo had recognized Nancy, and now
he proceeded to put in his claim.

‘ I am so glad that I have found on, Nancy,"
said he. “Now you will leave t at man and
go home with we, won‘t youl”

“ I won’t go with you, whatever I do,” she
coldly replie “I have made other arrange-
ments.”

“You will have to do it. I say. You can't
stay with that scoundrel any longer."

“Suppose Mr. Ke‘noe," suggested Aglar,
“that you leWour private affairs stand over
for a while. e have otl er matters to attend
to, and can’t allow any disturbance.”

“That’s so,” declared Jesse Siddala' “It is
clear that Mrs. TreSSell won’t be able to walk
to the boat and we must fix some way to
carry her. if Mr. Aglar and Tip will follow
up t ese wagon—tracks, they may find that team
and bring it to us. For fear they shouldn’t
light on it. I will try another scheme. Adam
Stocker can go to the old house and get a couple
of blankets, and Mr. Beale and I Will cut some
poles. The other two may stay here and watch
the risoncrs.”

T 1is arrangement was agreed to, and all set
off to perform the tasks allotted to them.

Billy Kehoe watched them until they were
out of sight, and then began to pace the ground
rapidly, showing that he was under theinlluence
of strong cxvitenient.

Martin 'l‘russcll, his hands tied behind him,
stood with his back against the trunk of a large
tree. Nancy Trotter was seated at the base of
another tree, partly supporting Mrs. Tresscll.

She paid no attention to the furious Blane.

exclaimed Nancy.

 

 

 

80 Tip Tressell,

  

the Floater.

 

the man from Memphis occasionally shof'ht her, I
but looked up when he addressed her. i

“I want you to go home with me, Nancy,”
he said, in a voice full of suppressed passion.
“ Will you do it?”

“I told you that I would not," she quietly.
replied. !

‘ You are my wife, and you must leave that
man."
“ Don’t make a fool of yourself, Kehoe,”
said Martin Tressell, with a sneer. “ She be- ,
longed to another man before either of us got i
hold of her. She was the wife of Abe Trotter
before you saw her.”

“ She was my wife when you stole her from
me, you scoundrel, and I mean to have your
heart’s blood for the wrong you did me.”

“ None of that, now 1” exclaimed Nancy, rising
as Kehoe drew his revolver.

“Come away from that horsethief and vil-
lain, then.”

“ He is a better man than you ever dared to be.”

‘l‘l gill, you go home with me?”

ol

“Then he is a dead man."

“ Quit that, ye bloody spalpeen l” shouted
Mike Rafferty. “Would yez shoot the poor
prisoner?”

“ You sha’n't kill him i” cried Nancy, as she
ran to Tresscll and threw her arms around him.

But Kehoe’s finger grossed the trigger, and the
bullet from his pistol ad a double death errand.

It passed through Nancy Trotter’s neck and
into the breast of Martin Tressel.

The man wavered for a moment: then blood
burst from his mouth, and he and the woman
fell heavily to the ground.

Kehoe put up his pistol, and ran across the old
field at the top of his speed.

“Murderl Murderl’ shouted Mike Rafierty.

CHAPTER XVI.
FINDING A MOTHER.

THE yells of the Irish lad brought forward
Jesse Siddals and Charley Beale, who hurried
back from their pole cutting, and were aston-
ished and shocked by the sight that awaited

em.

The others were far beyond the reach of a
shout- but Adam Stacker soon came back with
the blankets he had been sent for, and after
awhile George Aglar and Tip drove up with a
wagon and horses, which they had found at a
negro cabin not far away.

By this time both of Kehoe’s victims were
dead, and Mrs. Tressell, who had again fainted,
had been with difficulty revived.

“Who has done this?” demanded Aglar, and
the circumstances that led to the shooting were
firplained to him as Mike Rafferty had detailed

em. -

“ Perhaps it is better so.” he said. “ The man
was sure to die a violent death, and the only
along!" is that he had not met his fate before

5.

Bill Kehoe was then beyond pursuit, if any-
body ad cared to pursue him. But there was
no disposition to do so. As Jesse Siddals said
if they caught him they would have to kill

 

Mrs. Tressell asked for a lock of her dead
son’s hair, which was given her, and she was
placed in the wagon with Siddals and Tip, and
was driven away to the Search.

The others remained to give a decent burial
to the victims of the Memphis man’s revenge.

With their knives and bands they dug a
grave in the soft alluvial soil, and the bodies
were wrapped in the blankets which Stocker
had brought, and were laid away together.
The grave was filled up and marked, and that
was the last of Martin Tressell and Nancy
Trotter.

The old lady was joyfully welcomed back to
the ark by Ganymede, and it was a great r lief
to her to find herself in her comfortable ca bin,
after the toilsome and painful scenes through
which she had lately passed.

When George Aglar arrived with the rest of
the crew of the Search, he was brought into the
cabin and formally presented to her by Tip as
his uncle.

“So Tip is the son of your sister as well
as of my son,” she said. “I beg your pardon
for asking the question; but, were they really
married l"

“ There is no doubt of that,” replied Aglar.
“He has denied the marriage, but I have so»
cured the proofs, and my sister has them.”

“That is joyful news to me, Mr. Aglar. I
have taken a great fanc to Tip, and I am glad
to learn that I am not t e only relative he has
left. You are a very fortunate young fellow
Tip, and you must forget your father, as I shall
try to.

“ I don’t see that I have much to forget,” an-
swered the lad. “ He never cared a straw for
me, and I ain’t likely to fret about him.”

The next morning the Search was un-
moored, and Adam Stocker and Mike Rafferty
manned the sweeps, while Tip proudl con-
trolled the steering-oar, and the ark rifted
down the bayou.

As she approached the Mississippi, George
Aglar was seated on the steering-bench, con-
versing with his newly-found nephew, and con-
gratulatiug him on his good fortune.

“So I have really got a mother, and she is
nlive,”said the lad. “Where she is now, and
when do you think I shall see her?"

“ She went to New Orleans a while ago, but
promised to return very soon, and I hope we
will find her in Memphis when we get there.”

Jesse Siddals was seated on the roof, his feet
dangling over the forward end. It was neces-
sary for the “Search” to get a tow up the
river, and this was the business that was oc-
cupying his mind.

‘Let her swing well out into the stream,
Tip,” he ordered. “We may as well drift
down the river until we meet a steamboat that
will give us a tow. Hellol there’s one u’rendy !”

Around a bend below was heard the heavy
puffing> of exhaust pipes. and soon a. large
steam out came into view. battling her way
with tremendous power against the swift cur-
rent of the mighty river.

Siddals brought out a signal flag and set it,
and the ark was urged by her sweeps out into
the stream, so that she might intercept the

 

him, and there had been enough of that sort ot
thing.

  

‘ steamboatv

   

  

 

AA.
/ s

 

 

'W‘.‘,‘*'E‘.f«t min 

 

   

Tip Treason. the heater. 1 81

 

 

She was in a fair way to do so, and Siddals
was waving his hat and shouting for a. tow,
when there was a dull and heavy explosion on
board of the big boat, followed by the tending
and shattering of wood, and clouds of steam
arose from the midship and forward parts.

Then there were cries and screams of fear
and pain, and almost instantly flames broke out
and spread with great rapidity.

“Bwee her up, b0 5, for al you’re worth 1”
shouted iddals. “ here’s work for us here.
Get out the boat, somebodyl”

Tip had alreadp 1005ed and jumped into the
skiff, and was pu ling away With swift strokes.

George Aglar and Siddals hastened to help
the men at the sweeps to drive the ark toward
the burning boat, w ich was then drifting help-
lessly down—stream.

Fortunately there were but few passengers
on the steamboat. Fortunately, too, another
steamboat appeared on the scene. and oined in
the work of savin life. But the ar' which
was the first on t 9 spot, rendered excellent
service.

As Tip drew near the steamboat he saw a
woman jump from the after guard into the
water, and he pulled in that direction.

She was struggling in the stream as he ap-
proached her, and he saw her sink. ., i
Instantly he dropped his cars, dived after her

and brought her to the surface.

A man who had been swimming to the skiff
climbed in and took the oars. Be rowad to Tip,
and helped him to lift the nearly drowned
woman into the boat.

Then the/lad took the ears, and pulled to the

ark.

“ My God! 'it is my sister!” exclaimed George
Aglar, who had come forward to help take her
aboard. “ Tip, it is your mother that you have
saved, if she reall is saved.”

She was carrie into the cabin, and the efforts
that were made to restore her to life were soon 1
successful. . .

“Don’tsay anything to her about Tip until

m

I she is fully recoveredi” said Aglar. " We must i

" she no longer had a son to search for. She sold

: rapidly and in the course of time he entered

‘ merchant in New Orleans.

 

 
   
      

not ive her any kin of ashock ust et.”

on all had been done in t e 1i e savin
business that could be done, George A lar too -
the skifl and rowed to the steamboat w ich had
come to the assistance of the burning boat, and
which had drifted down the river with the
wreck. -

He made a contract with the captain of the
steamboat for towing the “Search ’ up to Mem—

his, and the ark was brought alongside the
out, to which the people she had saved were
transferred, with the exception of Tip’s mother.

That lady had by this time regained her
strength, and her brother gave her a brief ac~
count of his expedition to Be on Tunison, lead-
{Ing It]: to the information o the discovery of

or y.

"My son alivel” she exclaimed. “You told
me that he was dead.”

“ That was what Martin Tressell said, and he
may have believed it; but he was mistaken.
Tip is alive, and he is on this boat. and it was
he who saved your life when you jumped over-
board.” v

“ Bring him to me at once I” \

The meeting of the mother and the son, as the
story writers say, can be better imagined than 5
described. Tip found a handsome and young- ‘
looking lady, whom he was proud-to call mother, _
and she declared that the recovery of her boy ' _ .";
had repaid her for years of sorrow. ‘ ~ "

When the ark reached Memphis, Mrs. Tressell _ , ';
had determined to change her mode of life, as 59!»:-

her flatboat, liberally rewarded all who had_'
aided her, and hired a house in the city, where,
she lived with her daughter-in-law and grand-
son. ‘

A teacher was procured for Tip, who learned

the business house of Simon & Aglar. . . ,
He is now an enterprising and successful -.__

END.

9..

 

3:69 o o o

 

v

832 Dakota. Dan in Canyon City; or. Colorado Kate‘s
Check. By Philip S. Warnc.

833 Bootblack Ben, the Detective; or, Poolcr Jim
and His l’urd. By Anthony 1’. Morris.

83! Frisco Tom on Deck; or. Tho Golden Gate Smug-
glers. By George Henry Morse

835 Ben Bandy, the Boss Rm]; or, The Plucky
Parson. ByJ. Stanley Ken'lersoil.

336 Fred, the S ort, in Brimstone Bur Comp: or.
The Boston Yrestler‘s Confcdcratc. By Ed. L,
Wheeler.

837 Daisy Dave the Colorado Gal tot; or, The Boss
of Dead Line City. By T. C. llarhzulgh.

838 The Gold Bar Detective; or, Iron lko, the Solid
Man. By Major l<}.\L. St. Vrnin.

331) Rardo. the Boy Gypsy; or, Recklch Rolf's Re-
volt. By Win. G. Patten.

310 Billy Bubhlo’s Big Score; or, Tim, the Tramp.
BV Charles Morris.

341 Colorado Steve’s Dash; or, Old Buncomh’s Sure
Shot. 7 By Philip S. Wnrne.

342 Snap-Shot Saun» or, Ned Norris’s Nettle. By
Bucksin Sam.

343 Mike, the llcwr‘ry Detocfivenor. Peleg Prancor
of Verm0nt. By Edward L. Wheeler.

3344 The Drummer Sport; or. (‘apiain Dasher's Droll
Dilemma. By *‘rlward Willetr.

345 Jaiques, the Hardpan Detective; or. Captain
Frisco the Road- «out. By J. C. Cowdrick.

346 Joe. the Chicago Arab; or, A Boy of the Times.
B Charles Morris.

347 iddy Herbert‘s Prize; or The Girl Captain’s
Revenge. By Col. Prentiss n-n'uhmn.

318 Sharp-Shower Frank; or, The Young Texan
Pards. By Buckskin Sam.

34!) Buck the Minor or, Alf, 'the Colorado Guide.
B Maj. E. L. St. rain.

850 ed the- Slab City S ort; or, The Detective’s
Rip: Scoop. By E. L. \ hoeler. ‘ i

351 Rocky Mountain Joe; or. D 'acrm Simplicity on
the War-path. By Col. T. H. Monster" . r

352 New York Tim; or, Tue Boss of the Boulevard.
Bv Charles Morris. .

853 The Girl Pilot“ or, Ben, the Reef-Runner. By

» Roger Starbuck.

354 Joe, the Boy Stage-Driver; or, Nick Hickcn‘s
Cunning. By Maj E L. St. rain.

355 Texas Frank’s Crony; or, The Girl Mustang
Rider. By Bucks in Sam.

356 Idaho Ned. Detective; or, The Miners of Tarpot
City. By Edward L. Wheeler.

357 Guy. the Boy Minor; or Rocky Mountain Bill.
By Colonel Prentiss lugra am.

358 Jersey Joe, the Old Tar; or. the Wrecker‘s
Protege. By Mrs. Orin J amcs.

859 Dandy Dick's Dash; or. The Boy Cattle-King.
By Oll Comes.

860 Jim's Big Bonanza: or, Jake Dodd and His
Gang. J yW. J. Hamilton.

361 Oregon P iil, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two
Bits. By Philip S. Wa-ne.

362‘Kit, the Bootblack Dot'ctive; or, From Phila-
delphia to the Rockies. . By Edward L.
Whenler.

8“»? Too Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. By
T. C. ilarlmuqh.

361 Fritz's Old Score; or, Sib Cone’s Right Bower.

‘ By Ned Buntline.

865 Crack Shot Harry; or, The Masked Rider. By
Colonel Prentiss ngraham.

866 Gold Dust Rock. the Whirlwind of the Mines.
By G. W aldo Browne. r .

.ohgwgfigweug o O 0 Q o o o o c Q o o "0 Q owe o meowo;

\\..__n

*E/ _
immwsPOOKET

0"6‘6'655'6 o 'O_O:,C$_6 Q O 9.0 o Q Q b~dd§g

 

LIBRARY.~
__ 

 

\\

367‘ Fred's Bold Game; or. The Cave Treasure. By
Paul liibhs.

868 Jim, the Sport in Wake-up: or, Foghorn Fan to
the Front By Edward L. Whrwler.

369 Captain Blake’s Jonah; or, Harry, the Cabin
Boy. By Rogi‘l' Starliucr.

370 Denver Kit’s Donblv; or, The Giant Miner of the
Gulch. 15y Major H. B. Stoddard.

371 lilno Blazes hick; or, Danger Doll of Dynamite.
If T. C. Harliangh.

372 I 1c ‘ca Cat‘s Prize; or. The Flag: of the Red
llands. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham.

873 Larry O’Lynn‘s Dash; or, Kyle, the Renegade.
By Joseph F. Henderson.

374 Jim, the Sport’s iii: Room: or. The Bonanza
King‘s Rival. By Edward L. Wheeler.

375 Bowery llol), Detective; or, Bianca. the Tam-
bourine-Girl. By Jo Pierce.

376 Buckskin Dick’s Clean Swee : or, Jonathan
Jenks' Still Hunt. By 001’. Art iur F. Holt.

377 The Deadwood Sports. By Lieut. S. G. Lansing.

375 Bronco Billy. the Saddle Prince. By Colonel
Prviitiss Ingraham.

311) Dick, the Stowaway; or. A Yankee Boy’s Strange
Cruise. By Charles Morris,

380 Youn Dick ’l‘alhot- or. A Boy’s Rough and
Tunib 9. Fight from New York to California. By
Aloort W. Aiken.

381 Dandy Bill‘s Doom; or, Deerhunter, the Boy
Scout. By 011 Cooms.

3S2 Wide-Awake George. the Boy Pioneer. By Ed.

Willet.

383 ,Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. By Colonel Prentiss
‘lnizraharn.

384 Brimstone Bill’s Booty: or, Mariposa Marsh at
Dead Man‘s Gulch By Joseph E. Badger. Jr.

385 The Boy Tram s; or. The Rougus uf Demon
Hollow. By J. I. Hoffman.

886 The Montana Kid; or Little Dan Rock‘s Mis-
sion. By Morris Redw ng. '

887 The Boy Detectives; or. Broker Blondin‘s Big
Reward. By T. C. Harhnngh. ,

888 The Pony Express Rider; or, Buffalo Bill’s
Frontier Feats. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

889 New York Bill, the Dodtzvr; or, Two Boys Who
Were "Bounced." By Edward Willett.

‘890 The Ticket-of-Leave’s ’l‘ rick; or. Spring Steel,

King of the Bush. By J A scph E. Badger. Jr.
391 Charley Slgylark, the Sport. By Major Henry
B. Stoddar . _
392 Texas Jack. the Mustang King.
Prentiss Ingraham.
393 Peter, the Dandy Greenhorn. By Noah Nufll.
8‘4 Torn Temple’s Big Strike. By Barry Ringgold.
395 Harr , the Country Boy, in New York. By
Char es Morris.
396 Detective Paul’s Right Bower.
397 Tip Tressell. the Flatboat Boy.
1398 Captain Jack in Rocky Roost.
ingraham. Ready August 26.
399 Harry Somers. tho Magician.
Ready September 2.
A New Ixsua Furry ll’eduesn’ay. r
Bit/innu's Poer‘ LIIIBARY is for sale by all News-
dealers‘ five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re-
ceipt of six cents ouch.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers.
98 William Sreet, New York.
I v

By Colonel

By C. D. Clark.
By Ed. VVillrtt.
By 001. Prentiss

By S. W. Pierce.