“I am afraid I shall not find them,” said George, sadly, as he and Bob made their way toward the wharf-boat, which they found filled with the charred remains of the Kendall’s cargo.
“They may have been picked up before they reached the landing, or they may have floated by without being seen,” said Bob.
“There is some consolation to be found in that,” replied George, brightening. “If they are alive, I’ll see them some day. I owe a great deal to them.”
During the two hours that they remained on board the wharf-boat the boys were never left alone. They had a crowd of eager listeners around them all the time. They talked until they were tired, and were glad, indeed, when some one announced that a steamer, bound down, had just come in sight. A strip of canvas was stretched around the railing of the hurricane deck, bearing the words “For New Orleans,” and that told the boys that she was the boat they were waiting for. They boarded her as soon as her gang-plank was shoved out, and were at once surrounded by another crowd of people, who, having seen the smoking wreck of the Kendall (which was still fast on the bar), wanted to know how it came there. George told the captain all about it, and put a stop to further inquiries from the passengers by elbowing his way to the office and asking for a stateroom, to which he and his companion were promptly shown. When they had closed the door behind them they both gave a sigh of relief, and Bob began to pull off his coat.
“Are you tired enough to go to bed?” asked George. “I shall not wait until night. I am going into the pilot-house to keep watch. We may pick up somebody, you know.”
“I am not going to bed,” answered Bob. “I want to take out money enough to pay our passage. Have you any idea how much it will be?”
“Passage!” repeated George. “Why, man, we’re shipwrecked. Who would take money from us? We are not supposed to have any.”
“But, they might ask us for some.”
“No, they won’t. You’ll see that we will get the best of everything, and not a word will be said to us about money. Hold fast to all you’ve got. You’ll need it, if you are going to buy repeating rifles and revolvers, and hunting-knives, as you said you were, when we reach Galveston. You can’t get a Winchester rifle for less than forty-five dollars, and you will find that the cartridges for it will cost you a snug sum too.”
Bob put on his coat again, and the two boys sat on the lower bunk and waited until the steamer was under way, and the passengers had had time to disperse about the boat, and then they opened the door and hurried into the barber shop. They washed their hands and faces, brushed their hair and clothing, blacked their boots, and, having thus greatly improved their appearance, made their way toward the pilot-house. At the head of the stairs which led to the hurricane deck, George stopped and pointed down the river.