[figure description] Page 197.[end figure description]

NOT the boat. The boat ran on safely enough
to Louisville, and tied up at the levee, and discharged
her sugar and molasses, and took on a new
cargo of baled hay and corn and flour, and went
back again, and made I know not how many trips,
and ended her existence I can not tell how or when. What
does become of the old steamboats? The Iatan ran for years
after she tied up at Louisville that summer morning, and then
perhaps she was blown up or burned up; perchance some cruel
sawyer transfixed her; perchance she was sunk by ice, or maybe
she was robbed of her engines and did duty as barge, or, what
is more probable, she wore out like the one-hoss shay, and just
tumbled to pieces simultaneously.

It was not the gambler who got aground that morning. He
had yet other nice little games, with three cards or more or
none, to play.

It was not the mud-clerk who ran aground—good, non-committal
soul, who never took sides where it would do him any
harm, and who never worried himself about anything. Dear,
drawling, optimist philosopher, who could see how other people's

[figure description] Page 198.[end figure description]

mishaps were best for them, and who took good care not to have
any himself! It was not he that ran aground.

It was not Norman Anderson who ran aground. He walked
into the store with the proud and manly consciousness of having
done his duty, he made his returns of every cent of money that
had come into his hands, and, like all other faithful stewards,
received the cordial commendation of his master.

But August Wehle the striker, just when he was to be
made an engineer, when he thought he had smooth sailing, suddenly
and provokingly found himself fast aground, with no
spar or capstan by which he might help himself off, with no
friendly craft alongside to throw him a hawser and pull him off.

It seems that when the captain promised him promotion, he
did not know anything of August's interference with the gamblers.
But when Parkins filed his complaint, it touched the
captain. It was generally believed among the employés of the
boat that a percentage of gamblers' gains was one of the “old
man's” perquisites, and he was not the only steamboat captain
who profited by the nice little games in the cabin upon which
he closed both eyes. And this retrieved nine hundred and fifty
dollars was a dead loss of—well, it does not matter how much,
to the virtuous and highly honorable captain. His proportion
would have been large enough at least to pay his wife's pewrent
in St. James's Church, with a little something over for charitable
purposes. For the captain did not mind giving a disinterested
twenty-five dollars occasionally to those charities that were
willing to show their gratitude by posting his name as director,
or his wife's as “Lady Manageress.” In this case his right hand
never knew what his left hand did—how it got the money, for
instance.

[figure description] Page 199.[end figure description]

So when August drew his pay he was informed that he was
discharged. No reason was given. He tried to see the captain.
But the captain was in the bosom of his family, kissing his own
well-dressed little boys, and enjoying the respect which only
exemplary and provident fathers enjoy. And never asking down
in his heart if these boys might become gamblers' victims, or
gamblers, indeed. The captain could not see August the striker,
for he was at home, and must not be interfered with by any of
his subordinates. Besides, it was Sunday, and he could not be
intruded upon—the rector of St. James's was dining with him
on his wife's invitation, and it behooved him to walk circumspectly,
not with eye-service as a man-pleaser, but serving the
Lord.

So he refused to see the anxious striker, and turned to compliment
the rector on his admirable sermon on the sin of Judas,
who sold his master for thirty pieces of silver.

And August Wehle had nothing left to do. The river was
falling fast, the large boats above the Falls were, in steamboatman's
phrase, “laying up” in the mouths of the tributaries and
other convenient harbors, there were plenty of engineers unemployed,
and there were no vacancies.

p555-205

Previous section

Next section