Contents

[I—A Rambler Reception Day]
[II—Alex. Goes Fishing]
[III—A Waif from the River]
[IV—Two Boys Get a Tumble]
[V—A New Captain on Board]
[VI—Captain Joe Makes a Hit]
[VII—Searching for the Rambler]
[VIII—Faces at the Window]
[IX—Red Declines to Talk]
[X—More River Outlaws]
[XI—Fire-Faces on the Island]
[XII—Half Full of Diamonds]
[XIII—A River Robber in a New Role]
[XIV—Alex. Breaks Furniture]
[XV—The Leather Bag Missing]
[XVI—What Dropped on Deck]
[XVII—Getting out of the Mud]
[XVIII—Swept Into a Swamp]
[XIX—Pilgrims from Old Chicago]
[XX—The Darkey up the Tree]
[XXI—Dodging a Police Boat]
[XXII—The Sheriff Knows a Lot]
[XXIII—A Night in New Orleans]
[XXIV—Something Doing All the Time]
[XXV—Commonplace, After All]

THE SIX RIVER MOTOR BOYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI

[CHAPTER I—A RAMBLER RECEPTION DAY]

A white bulldog of ferocious aspect lay sound asleep under a small table. Lying across the dog’s neck, with his soft muzzle hidden between capable paws, was a quarter-grown grizzly bear. Now and then Captain Joe, as the dog was named, stirred uneasily in his sleep, as if in remonstrance at the liberties which Teddy, the cub, was taking with his person. The bulldog and the cub snored in unison!

The table under which the animals slept stood in the middle of the small cabin of the motor boat Rambler, and the Rambler was pulling at her anchor chain in the muddy water of the Mississippi river—pulling and jerking for all the world like a fat pig with a ring in his nose trying to get rid of the line which held him in captivity.

Although early in November, there were wandering flakes of snow in the air, and a chill wind from the northwest was sweeping over the Mississippi valley. There had been several days of continuous rain, and, at Cairo, where the motor boat lay, both the Mississippi and the Ohio rivers were out of their banks.

In spite of the wind and snow, however, the cabin of the Rambler was cozy and warm. In front of the table where the bulldog and the young bear lay stood a coal stove, on the top of which two boys of sixteen, Clayton Emmett and Alexander Smithwick, were cooking ham and eggs, the appetizing flavor of which filled the little room. A dish of sliced potatoes stood not far away, and over the cherry-red coils of an electric stove at the rear of the cabin a great pot of coffee was sizzling and adding its fragrance to rich contributions of the frying pan.

While the boys, growing hungrier every second, stirred the fire and laid the table, footsteps were heard on the forward deck of the motor boat, and then, without even announcing his presence by a knock, a roughly-dressed man of perhaps forty years stepped into the cabin and stood for a moment staring at the bulldog and the bear, stood with a hand on the knob of the door, as if ready for retreat, his lips open, as if the view of the interior had checked words half spoken. Alex. Smithwick regarded the man for a moment with a flash of anger in his eyes, then he caught the humor of the situation and resolved to punish the intruder for his impudence in walking into the cabin without a bit of ceremony.