"Why did who throw it back here?" chuckled Case.

"Now, look here, Smarty," Alex. continued. "There are only four persons who could have taken that bag from the boat, the cashier and his two friends, and Chet."

"Unless the dog ate it, or Teddy threw it overboard."

"Oh, quit your foolishness! Now, which one of the four is out there in the river? Whoever it is has a sense of humor, for the tossing of the bag back shows that the situation is appreciated."

"You notice the steamer came UP the river?" asked Case.

"Yes; what of it?" demanded Alex. "I don't see anything in that."

"Well, that shows that whoever threw the bag on deck came from down stream! It shows, too, that we have been watched every minute, for reasons which we don't know anything about!"

"Yes, in order to keep track of us they might have taken the railroad down the river bank and then taken a steamer up, so as to meet us on the way down! I see something in it now. But who is it?"

"It may be Chet!" suggested Case. "He may have returned the bag just to show us that he knows about the removal of the diamonds."

"I just believe Chet is out there somewhere, and that he would come on board if he knew we wouldn't raise a row about the way he left us!"

declared Alex.

"I give it all up!" Case returned. "It's your watch now, and I'm going to bed! If there's anything good to eat thrown on deck out of the darkness, just wake me up, otherwise let me alone. I'll hunt up my dream book to-morrow and find what it says about leather bags dropping out of the sky!"

Alex. sat alone in the dim night, watching the river and the dark bottom lands of the island for a long time before anything attracted his attention. Then a light, like that made by a camp-fire, sprang up on the Mississippi side of the river.

He could see figures moving about in front of the blaze, but of course could not distinguish faces. Presently the low, weird chant of a plantation song came over the waters. It was evident that a gang of negroes, possibly railroad repair men, was pa.s.sing the night in camp on the sh.o.r.e.

As Alex. listened to the plaintive songs he heard a splash in the water at the side of the boat, and shot his light in that direction. A stick was floating away, and the boy concluded that it was that which had made the noise he had heard.

He heard the negroes come to the bank of the river to gather driftwood for the fire, and heard their drawling voices saying something of the river going down fast, but could not catch the full import of their words.

The companionship of the fire and the voices was something to the boy, and he sat until daylight began to show in perfect contentment. Then he went into the cabin to get a line, it being his idea to surprise the boys with a fish breakfast.

He looked at the sleeping faces for a moment and started when he came to a rug in the corner where Mose usually slept! Captain Joe was there, his nose in his paws, but Mose was not there! Alex. searched the boat. The negro boy was gone! The amazed boy half pulled Clay out of his bunk and began the story of the night.

"We're not yet out of the enchanted land," he said. "We are still seeing things! The leather bag comes back out of the sky, and Mose goes up in the air. I'm for getting down to the Gulf right soon."

"Have you looked in the bag for any solution of the puzzle?" asked Clay. "There may be a note of some kind there: a note of explanation.

See?"

"Yes," declared Alex., pointing over the side, and not answering the question about the bag, "I see that we are stuck in the mud, and not likely to get out until another flood, a year, or perhaps two years, off."

CHAPTER XVII

GETTING OUT OF THE MUD

Clay's face plainly expressed the dismay he felt as he bent over the gunwale and looked downward in the growing light of the morning. The _Rambler_ lay in a bed of soft, oozy mud, with harder ground between her and the "tow-head."

"I presume," Alex. said, "that the people of this country will be glad to see that the river lowered in the night! So are we?"

"We ought to have provided against this," Clay exclaimed, in self-reproach. "We might just as well have anch.o.r.ed a few yards farther down. What next, I wonder?"

"The longer we wait before getting the motor boat into the water,"

Alex. said, "the harder work it will be, for the river is lowering every minute."

Clay scratched his head and estimated the distance to deep water.

"We'll have to put on our bathing suits and take to the mud," he decided. "By all taking hold, we may be able to get her out of this mess. Nice job it is, too!"

"Sure!" Alex. grinned. "Mud baths are healthful! There's Mike Cogan, the Chicago politician, he goes to take mud baths twice a year! If we had him here now we wouldn't charge him a cent for his cure! I think he'd like it, too."

"I'll wake Case and Jule, and we'll get right at it," Clay said. "I wish a lot of husky plantation hands would happen along in a shanty boat."

"There was a group of them over on the Mississippi side last night,"

Alex. explained. "We might get them, if they are there yet. Say," he continued, with a grin, "I believe that is where the little c.o.o.n went!

He saw the camp-fire and heard the plantation songs, and couldn't remain away from his own people!"

"In that case," Clay suggested, "the little rascal will be back soon."

"Never can tell about boys of the Mose stripe," Alex. predicted. "He may follow the men off and never show up here again."

Clay started for the cabin to arouse Case and Jule and then turned back to ask:

"Did that pocket book--the bag, rather, that had the diamonds in, make its appearance before or after Mose disappeared?"

"I don't know when Mose lit out," was the reply. "At one time I heard a splash in the river and looked to see what it was about, but Mose was not in sight then. There was only a large stick floating in the stream. Still, he might have gone at that time. If he did, he left long after the bag was thrown on deck. What about it?"

"I was thinking that he might have followed off the person who threw the bag," Clay explained, "though I can't understand why he should have gone away so secretly. Did the dog make any remarks about the time the bag reached the deck?"

"Nix on Captain Joe! He's getting too sleepy! He stirred only once in the night, and that was when the boat was coming up to us. He frightened the pirates away, when Case and I had planned to shoot 'em up!"

"Then," concluded Clay, "when we reach the truth of it, we'll discover that it was Chet who was around here last night, and who threw the bag on deck. You know we have been thinking, all along, that he might have taken it."

"That's what Jule insists on," Alex. returned, "while the rest of us think one of the visitors took it, and that Chet chased off the boat to get it back, not knowing that the diamonds had been taken out of it."

"It seems clear now," Clay replied, "that Chet took it. In the first place, there is no good reason for supposing that the visitors would find the bag, or take it if they did find it; or take any trouble to return it after they had found its contents of no value. Chet got it, all right, and, disappointed and chagrined at the subst.i.tution we had made, he lost no time in throwing it back at us."

"Chet was broke, wasn't he?" asked Alex., with a sly grin.

"So far as I know, yes. Anyway, he didn't look like a millionaire when we took him on board and fixed him out with a suit of your clothes!"

"Then how would he ride up the river in a steamer, or ride down the river to the next town to take the steamer, or hire a rowboat and pay the captain of the steamer for letting him off in his boat as soon as he saw the light of the _Rambler_?"

"You smash all my solutions," laughed Clay. "Now, give me one of your own, so I can smash that,"

"I ain't no prophet!" grinned the red-headed boy, "but I'm gambling that when we get down to the bottom of matters we'll find Red, the Robber, in the mess!"