“Well,” said Ed, still scrutinizing the map, “the navigable part of the Hudson, from New York to Troy, is about one hundred and fifty-six miles long. The navigable part of the Yazoo is, as Phil said, one hundred and seventy-five miles long. Oh, by the way—”
“What is the thought behind that exclamation?” said Irv, when Ed paused; for Irv’s spirits were irrepressible.
“It just occurs to me,” said Ed, “that this wonderful river of ours, the Mississippi with its tributaries, is almost exactly one hundred times as long—in its navigable parts—as the greatest commercial river of the East.”
“In other words,” said Irv, “the East isn’t in it with us. Its great Hudson River would scarcely more than make a tail for the Mississippi below New Orleans. It would just about stretch from Cincinnati to Louisville. It would cover only a little more than half the distance from St. Louis to Cairo, or from Cairo to Memphis.”
“True!” said Ed, “and pretty much the same thing is true of every great river in Europe. Not one of them would make a really important tributary of our wonderful river. All of them put together wouldn’t compare with the Ohio and its affluents.”
“Phil’s ten minutes are up,” said Will. “I hate to wake him, but that was his order.”
Phil had come, in this time of stress, to live mainly within himself. He was too much absorbed with his responsibilities to be able to put them aside, or even to treat them lightly.
“I’m ‘It,’ and so I’m responsible,” he had said to Ed, “and I must think. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to talk, and sometimes I’m too tired to talk. I must just give orders without explaining them. You explain it all to the other fellows, and don’t let them misunderstand. I don’t like the job of commanding, even a little bit. But you fellows set me at it, and I accepted the responsibility. I’ll bear it to the end, but—”
“We all understand, Phil,” said Irv Strong, who had joined the brothers. “Your crew was never better satisfied with its captain than it is to-day. But it will be still more loyal to-morrow and next day, and every other day till the voyage is ended.” Then in lighter vein—for Irv never liked to be serious for long at a time—he added: “Why, I wouldn’t even whisper if you told me not to, and you remember Mrs. Dupont posted me first, and you next, as irreclaimable whisperers.”
But to return to the night in question. When Phil was waked he took a lantern and made a minute inspection of the boat, inside and outside. Then he dropped into a skiff and rowed away to examine the moorings critically. On his return he said to his comrades:—