However, it was boat day, and the steamer would leave for upriver points at five o’clock. Considering the long drive from Bay Minette to Craig’s camp, and the uncertainty of being able to obtain a motor, he thought that his chance was probably better by boat than by rail.
The boat, as always, was an hour late in getting off. Lockwood did not sleep much that night. He did not undress, but he lay down in his berth for a few hours, marking each landing as they passed it. The great searchlight swung its long finger of light ahead; the cypress swamps, the marshy headlands, the ghostly line of sycamores and live oaks slipped past. A heavy, hot smell of vegetable decay came off the land.
The lumbering steamer made good speed that night. Shortly after midnight they came up to the colored bluffs of Rainbow Landing, and hauled in to the warehouse, amid the usual shouting and excitement of the negroes. Lockwood was the only passenger to land, and there were no more than three or four waiting figures ashore. He had hardly stepped off the plank when one of these figures stepped forward to meet him.
“Mr. Craig sent me over to meet you, Mr. Lockwood. His car’s busted a tire, but I’ve got my buggy to drive you to the camp.”
Lockwood could not see the man’s face in the gloom, but he guessed it to be one of the farmers of the neighborhood. They all knew him by this time, and he had met most of them, though he could hardly have remembered their names.
“Thanks—all right!” he said gladly. “How did Mr. Craig know I was coming on this boat?”
“I reckoned you sent him word,” said the man, leading the way to where a horse was hitched back in the darkness. When he thought of it, Lockwood believed that he had told Craig that he would be up on the first boat. They drove away at a fast trot through the swamp, up to the crossroad, down past the post office—all familiar ground now. They passed the Power house, wrapped in complete darkness.
“Do you know if Mr. Hanna is back?” he inquired.
“Yes, sir. Seen him this evenin’,” the driver answered.
Hanna had beaten him then. Lockwood was revolving this fact anxiously when the driver pulled up suddenly, got out and went behind the buggy, uttering a disgusted curse. They had just reached the bayou bridge.