“Your voice!” was the reply. “It puzzled me at first, though.”
“I’ll have to trade voices with some river rascal!” grinned Red.
“You spoke, that night, about a boy who had come on board?” Clay said, tentatively.
“That was my business there,” Red replied, with a slight frown.
“Where did the boy go that night? We never saw him after the officers came on board. He must have swum to the Missouri shore.”
“He did,” was the hesitating reply. “He made it, too!”
“Why didn’t he remain with us?” asked Clay.
“He got scared! If I had kept away he might have done so.”
“Is he your son?” was the next question Clay asked.
Red looked the boy in the face steadily for a moment and then asked: