After the young pilot and his companion had eaten a hasty lunch, they went up into the pilot-house, and while they were there an alarm of fire was raised. It is believed to this day, that the captain of the Kendall, after trying in vain to run her upon a snag which had been the destruction of two or three boats, applied the torch to her in order that he might pocket the money for which she was insured; but this act, like Uncle John's attempt to drown his nephew, had no witnesses, and nothing could be proved against him.
During the wild scenes that followed, Bob Owens, who possessed physical courage in the same degree that he lacked moral courage, exerted himself to the utmost to rescue the passengers and crew whom the flames had driven to the forecastle, but was at last obliged to take to the water in order to save himself. He assisted George's worst enemy, who could not swim, by placing in his hands an oar that supported him while he floated down the current, and discovering the young pilot clinging to the rudder, took him safely to the shore for the second time. They warmed and dried themselves in the cabin of a friendly trapper, and after spending some time in discussing the plans upon which they had determined, they set out to walk to White river landing, where they found a boat that took them to New Orleans.
Now it so happened that Uncle John was in the cabin at the same time the boys were there, having been pulled out of the river by the trapper, who saw him floating by on his oar. His clothing was drying in front of the fire, and he was so closely wrapped up in the only blanket the trapper possessed, that his nephew did not recognise him. He heard George tell his new friend that he was going to take him to Texas and make a brother of him, and as soon as the boys started for White river, he set to work to defeat this plan. He went to New Orleans on a steamer which the trapper hailed for him, and while in that city, made an effort to separate the boys by enticing Bob on board a steamer that was bound to some port in South America. He had nothing against Bob, but he knew that he had money, while George had none; and his object was to keep the latter in New Orleans until he could run down to Texas and straighten up some things there that he had left in a pretty bad state. But this plot was frustrated, and George and Bob sailed in company for Galveston. There Bob's pocket was picked, and the two friends found themselves in a strange city, hungry, penniless and without a roof to shelter them. They spent the whole night on the streets, keeping constantly in motion in order to avoid arrest, and the next day looking in vain for work.
Late in the afternoon of this particular day, Bob made a discovery that proved too much for his friendship. He found a fifty cent scrip in his watch-pocket. That would provide him with a good supper and a bed to sleep in. It was not enough to pay for supper and lodging for George, too, and believing that he had already shown his good-will for him by saving his life when he could not possibly have saved it himself, Bob slipped away from his companion and hunted up a cheap lodging-house, where he had a square meal and a night's rest. The next day he enlisted in the army. There was where we left him, and where we shall find him the next time we see him. Surprising as it may seem, his life and George's ran on in the same channel for months, and we shall have a good deal to say about them and their exploits.
George never dreamed that Bob had deliberately deserted him. He missed him after a while, and turning back, looked everywhere for him. Although he did not find him, he found somebody else, and that was Mr. Gilbert, the very man he wanted most to see just then. The last time the young pilot saw him he wore a red shirt, coarse trousers, cowhide boots and a slouch hat. Now he was dressed in clothing of the latest cut, and it made so great a change in his appearance that the boy was not sure of his identity until he heard his voice and felt the cordial grasp of his hand.
"Where are you stopping?" asked Mr. Gilbert, after each had expressed the surprise and pleasure he felt at meeting the other.
George moved his hand up and down the street. "This is my hotel," said he, with a laugh. "I haven't a cent in my pocket, and have eaten but one very light meal to-day."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Mr. Gilbert, seizing the boy by the arm and turning him around. "Come to my hotel."
"Hold on a moment," answered George. "I have a friend who is as hungry as I am. I have only just lost him, and he must be close about here."
"Well, you know him, and I don't. Keep a sharp lookout for him, and tell me your story as we walk along. Then I will tell you something that will astonish you."