The Mystery on the Mississippi

against the current.
    “The Catfish Princess had it easy, just rolling along downriver, didn’t it?” Mart asked. “Slow as it was, it makes me lonesome for it when I see another towboat. Boy, this one sure churns up the waves, doesn’t it, Bob?”
    Bob, his head bent over the wheel, didn’t answer. He kicked angrily at the floor under him.
    “I know what you’re thinking, fella,” Jim said. He had a speedboat of his own on the Hudson. “Those waves sure mess up the current, don’t they?”
    Bob didn’t answer. He just kept his gaze fixed on the buoys that marked the channel line.
    Thebes loomed up. Children stood on the hilltop on shore. The Bob-Whites waved to them. Bob slowed his boat, reached for binoculars under the seat and, holding them with one hand, looked intently past the shoreline toward the village.
    A road paralleled the river. Cars and trucks sped along it. Bob’s binoculars followed one car. Trixie, curious, could see very little without distance glasses. One thing seemed peculiar to her, though. It looked as if the car had its headlights on, or the sun’s reflection gave that impression.
    “What do you see, Bob?” she asked. “May I look?”
    Bob turned quickly, shoved the binoculars under the seat, and stepped on the accelerator.
    “It wasn’t anything,” he said shortly.
    I guess he forgot I asked him if I could use the glasses , Trixie thought. He's kind of edgy. I thought he'd be more fun. When we're out in Jim's boat at home , he's not a bit like Bob. Maybe the Mississippi River is different. It has such a strong current , Bob has to watch it every minute.
    Jim and Brian seemed puzzled, too, at Bob’s odd behavior.
    “Everyone around here is too sober,” .Trixie burst out. “Let’s sing something.” With a clear voice, she led a song Paul had sung back on the Catfish Princess.

“Oh, the riverman’s life is the life for me,
Hi diddle diddle de dee!
Out on the water yet near to the land,
Hi diddle diddle de dee!
Oh, I don’t like the ocean with all of its motion,
Hi diddle diddle de dee!
And I don’t like the whales, or sea serpents with scales,
Hi diddle diddle de dee!”

    The putt-putt of the motor seemed to mark time as the boat sped on. Its driver paid no attention to the singing, however. He riveted his gaze on the shoreline.
    As the Bob-Whites began to swing into the second verse, Bob straightened in his seat, took out his glasses again, and stared at the shore. He flashed on the boat’s lights. “Just trying them out,” he said to Jim, who was close enough to follow his movements. Suddenly the boat swayed. The engine sputtered, coughed, and stopped. They were running quite close to the shore, a shore that was swampy and completely deserted.
    Bob pumped the accelerator and fooled with the controls.
    “Anything I can do?” Jim asked helpfully. “I have a boat something like the Comet. Maybe there’s water in the gas.” He leaned down, put a little gas in his hand, and blew on it to see if some water remained after evaporation of the gas. “Nope, that isn’t it.”
    “Just leave it to me. I’ll get her going,” Bob said curtly. He stepped on the accelerator again. The engine responded.
    “Boy, that’s a souped-up baby!” Jim said admiringly. “Bet she’ll do fifty.”
    Bob made a gesture of impatience. “Just keep your hands off, buddy. I’m going to run her in here and see what’s the matter.”
    He took his hand from the throttle, tipped the engine up from the water,, and ran through a reed-filled swamp into a cove concealed by a maze of low-hanging willows. Just as the bow entered the cove, two men waded up to the boat. They were red-faced and angry.
    “What in tarnation are you doin’ in here?” one of them growled. “We’ve been spottin’ a school of fish here for days. Just about to sink our lines. Now you’ve messed everything up. What’s wrong with your boat?”
    “Not a thing,” Bob answered coldly, his eyes going past the men to the road on shore. “I just wanted a chance to look over my motor. It’s been missing.”
    “Look her over then,” one of the men said. “You can’t do any more harm here. Well, ain’t you gettin’ out?”
    Up on shore, a car’s engine raced. Its wheels spun in the sand; then it roared up the road.
    “I guess not,” Bob answered, and he started the engine. “She seems to be working all right now.” The boat purred perfectly as he backed out and swung it into the channel. “I guess I