gested Songbird. "You'll remember, she broke away once before."
"She couldn't break away—she was tied up good and tight," answered Sam, decidedly.
"Well, if you cannot find the houseboat, we'll have to go home from here instead of from New Orleans," said Mrs. Stanhope. "That will shorten our trip somewhat but not a great deal. But I hope, for your uncle's sake, that you get his property back."
"We'll do that, or know the reason why," answered Sam.
"What's this trouble about your houseboat?" asked the storekeeper, who had caught part of the conversation.
"It's missing."
"So you said. Too bad!"
"Do you know the planter who had charge of the craft?" went on Sam. "He was tall and thin and went by the name of Gasper Pold."
"What, did you leave your boat with that man? You should have known better. Didn't you know Pold was an old lottery sharp?"
"We did not."
"Well, he is, and has cheated many a poor white man and nigger out of his hard-earned savings. He's in bad flavor around here, and some of the citizens were just about to ask him to leave or run the risk of tar and feathers."
