The Mystery on the Mississippi

rifles and dueling pistols. Right through this arch, Jim; there’s the office. I don’t know what earthly good it’ll do to ask again. I can’t stand it, though, if we don’t get on that river somehow!”
    “Hi, there!” the man back of the desk called as the Bob-Whites crowded through the door. “I’ve been keeping my eye out for you. There is a chance you can go on the river.”
    “No kidding?” Trixie asked. “On a real steamboat?”
    “Did they rustle up an extra?” Mart asked.
    “No steamboat. No extra. Something else, though. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. A man was in here shortly after you left, and he reminded me of it.”
    “For heaven’s sake, tell us!” Trixie insisted.
    “I’m trying to, honey,” the old gentleman said. “This man—he wanted to know if I could tell him where he could buy a steamboat—”
    “And you knew, and you told him, and he said we could take a ride—” Trixie burst out.
    “Hey, not so fast. Not so fast. No, sirree, but he did want to buy a steamboat. There’s some of them tied up and rotting here and there between St. Louis and New Orleans—north on the river, too, for that matter. Yes, sir, though I doubt if any of them would float. He wants to make one of them watertight, float it down to New Orleans, use it for a showboat, and—”
    “For pete’s sake, how does that get us on the river?” Mart cried, forgetting his manners.
    “I’m coming to that right now, if you’ll just listen. Towboat. That’s the answer. Think you’d like to take
    a trip down the river on one of them?”
    “A towboat? You mean a tugboat?” Trixie’s eyes were wide with wonder, remembering the puffing little harbor boats that are used to swing huge ocean liners into the channel.
    “No, I don’t mean a tugboat. I mean a towboat. There’s a mighty big difference. It pushes barges. It doesn’t pull them.”
    “I’d just as soon paddle an old scow,” Brian said sadly. “What we wanted to do was to live on a steamboat for at least a couple of days.”
    “You can do that,” the man answered. “At least, you may be able to. It’s a matter of invitation. Tow-boats don’t take passengers, but they do take guests. This man said there’s one, the Catfish Princess, due to head south in a day or two. He seemed certain you could get aboard her.”
    “Are there living quarters on a towboat?” Trixie wanted to know.
    “I’ll say there are—as fine as any you’ll find on an ocean liner. Well, maybe that’s talking them up a little too much, but they’re clean and neat. Food’s good, too. Extra good. That’s what the deckhands look forward to mostly—food. The towboats are actually run in much the same spirit as the old steamboats. The captains and pilots have wanted to be captains and pilots from the time they were little—”
    “Holy cow!” Mart said and jumped into the air.
    “What are we waiting for?”
    “A little information about how to get on board,” Jim answered quietly.
    “Whom do you know in the city?” the man asked. Dismayed, the Bob-Whites looked from one to another.
    “Mr. Brandio!” Honey exclaimed suddenly. “Don’t know the name,” the man replied. “Who is he?”
    “The president, I think,” Mart began. The man raised his eyebrows. “President of the Clear Meadow Aircraft Corporation, I mean.”
    The man whistled. “Well! He should be able to get you aboard. A man like that would have his hands in half a dozen enterprises. Ask him, anyway. By the way, that dark-haired man who just looked in here is the one trying to buy a steamboat. He’s the one who made me think of a towboat for your trip. Hope you can make it. Come back and see us again.”
    “Thank you, sir, we surely will be back!” Jim said politely. “It’s a swell place you have here!”
    Outside, Trixie pointed over to the parking lot. “There he is, the man we saw at the motel, just getting into that Mercedes! It’s the same man.”
    “Yeah.” Mart put his two fingers to his head in a salute. “I don’t think much of your manners on the highway, fella, but thanks for the tip about the Catfish Princess !”

Good News • 3

    AS THE CAR SPED through the city and eventually onto the busy road leading to the airport, Dan was very quiet.
    “Take a look back of you, Dan,” Jim said over his shoulder. “Do you see anything of our friend in the Mercedes?”
    Dan didn’t answer.
    “What’s biting you?” Mart asked, concern shadowing