Excerpt: "The towering stacks of the steamboat "Mediterranean" sent their clouds of smoke, black and wind rent, across the sky; her sharp bow cut the yellow waters of the Mississippi and dashed the spray as high as her rails. The cabins were thronged with passengers; the forward deck was tiered high with bales and barrels and boxes of merchandise. Two boys sat by the rail upon the upper deck; their faces were earnest and they talked in low tones. "Are you quite sure that Sam Davidge is on board, Walt?" asked one. "I’d know him among a whole city-full, let alone a cabin-full, " answered Walter Jordan. "And I’ve seen him three times to-day." The other boy frowned and looked out over the wide river toward the Arkansas shore. "It’s queer, " said he. "It’s very queer that he should just happen to be going down the river at the same time we are." Walter Jordan gave his friend a quick look. "Ned, " said he, "chance has nothing to do with it-as I think you know." Ned Chandler nodded. "He’s on board because we are; he’s trying to find out where we are going." The boy ran his fingers through his short light hair, and his blue eyes snapped. "I never did think much of Davidge; and I think less of him now than I did before.""
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