The greatest excitement reigned aboard the houseboat, when it was realized that while they were talking about their former experience, here a fire had broken out on board some other boat just below them.

“Shall we go and help put it out, Frank?” asked Bluff, who seemed quite anxious to have an affirmative reply. “Looks like we’re just bound to be called on for any little old job along this river. Fire fighters, get busy!”

“We can’t all go,” said Frank, remembering their former experience; “and as Jerry was complaining of having hurt his foot on that nail a little while ago, why, he will have to stay, and watch the boat. The rest come with me!”

No one thought to question Frank’s authority, because he had long ago been elected as the chief of the club: and his word was law; though, as a rule, he tried to make his comrades feel that they had as much voice in settling ordinary matters as he did.

Bluff and Will jumped ashore after their leader. Jerry grumbled a whole lot, not at Frank’s decision, but the unfortunate freak of Fate that made him suffer from stepping on a nail in his bare feet, just when he wanted to have an equal chance with his chums about going to the help of those in danger of being burnt out.

Frank and his two companions ran as fast as they could. The bank happened to be fairly open, so they quickly reached the point of land that jutted out. Below here there seemed to be some sort of beach, and over this they could make quick time.

Before now they had discovered that, sure enough, a boat was afire, and Bluff called out that it seemed to be some sort of shantyboat, too. Perhaps they imagined they were about to render assistance again to some poor family, such as the one that had been rescued from the floating treetop, at the time of the adventure with the savage panther.

“I don’t hear any children hollering, though,” panted Bluff, as he kept close to Frank’s heels.

“That’s so,” spoke up Will; “but there’s a heap of yelling going on all the same. Listen to ’em; will you, boys.”

And just then a single voice, filled with excitement, came easily to their ears:

“It’s gaining on us, Ossie, I tell you! There isn’t enough of a crowd to keep the flames back. Didn’t I say that gasolene stove’d do us some day? and it has. The whole thing’s going under!”

“Ossie!” said Will, as they somehow came to a sudden stop.

“Shucks! it’s only that crowd, after all,” remarked Bluff; “let their boat go up in fire and smoke, for all it matters to us, fellows.”

“Well,” said Frank, who knew the speaker better than Bluff did himself; “you can both go back, if you feel that way; but these fellows are in a bad fix; and even if they don’t thank me for lending a hand, I’ve just got to try and help put that fire out, if I want to look at myself in a glass without blushing.”

With that he rushed off again. And hearing the patter of two pair of willing feet close behind him, Frank had to chuckle. Of course neither Will nor Bluff could be left out when there was anything exciting going on.

Two minutes later, and they were on the scene. They found a pretty serious situation, with the flames pouring out from one end of the houseboat, that must have cost the millionaire father of Oswald Fredericks some thousands of dollars to outfit.

And the boys, while they seemed to be working desperately in the endeavor to extinguish the fire, did not go about it in the proper way, so that their efforts were about as good as wasted.

Frank took in the situation at a glance. He knew that the wind just then was coming from down the river; and as it was the upper end of theLounger that was afire there was some chance to gain the mastery of the hungry flames.

Seeing a couple of buckets where one of the others had dropped them upon finding the fire getting too hot for him, Frank stooped over them. Rapidly he gave his chums directions how to keep these in constant play. They were to do the dipping into the river, handing the filled buckets up to him; when he would dash the water on the fire in a certain spot, until he had overwhelmed its hold there; and be in a condition to move on a little further.

They worked like beavers. Indeed, once aroused to the work, and determined to win out, Bluff could not have done better service had it been the Pot Luck that was in danger of being wiped out.

Again and again did those buckets come into Frank’s hands, and the contents sprayed over the spluttering fire. It had met with a new enemy now, and one against which its most desperate efforts seemed to avail little. System had been brought into the game, a concentration of energies upon one spot. Ossie and his comrades had doubtless thrown plenty of water in the time they were laboring; but it had been so widely scattered that its strength was lost.

Pretty soon Frank found that someone was working side by side with him, taking full buckets from other hands, and following his example in casting the water in a particular spot.

It gave him something like a thrill when he realized that this was no other than Ossie Fredericks himself. For the time being the rivals of the Mississippi were working side by side, as though the very best of friends, and animated by a single purpose, which was the saving of the fine power houseboat from destruction.

After that the fire was quickly gotten under control, though Frank would not stop in his labor until the very last spark seemed to have been smothered. As the boat had been fastened with the bow up-stream, all the damage was away from the motor, and would not amount to so serious a thing after all. A hundred dollars might cover the bill for repairs; and doubtless Ossie and his friends could continue their cruise on the morrow, making out the best way possible, with a partly burned cabin, until they pulled up in the Crescent City a short time later.

“All out, Frank?” asked the perspiring Bluff.

“Yes, every spark, so far as I can see,” was the reply; “and I guess we’d better be heading back to our own boat as fast as we can, because I felt a drop of rain just then, and we’re going to get a deluge pretty quick now.”

“Hold on, please, Frank!”

It was Ossie himself who said this. He was coming toward them, his friends following at his heels. Frank had heard them arguing over something, and he imagined that several of the boys were holding back in connection with something that Ossie himself seemed determined to do.

“I’d like to shake hands with you, Langdon,” said the millionaire’s son, as he approached, holding out his now grimy palm. “When you did me a good turn that other time I acted like a bear, and I’ve been sick about it ever since. This settles the whole thing. I’ve been foolish to try and stand out against as fine a fellow as you. The crowd at college that stood up for you knew what they were doing. I’m ashamed of the way I acted, and I’m going to ask your pardon right here.”

“Glad to hear you say that you’ve changed your mind about me, Ossie,” said Frank, as he took the extended olive branch in the shape of Fredericks’ hand, and gave it a hearty squeeze. “And I hope that when we go back to college again we’ll be the best of friends. As to the little job we joined you in this night, why, it’s been a snap for us; eh, Bluff?”

So Bluff and Will in turn had to take the hand of Ossie. Then the other called out to his comrades to step up and ratify the new compact of peace. Perhaps neither Raymond Ellis nor Duke Fletcher liked the way things were going; but under the conditions they could not hold back. As for the St. Paul fellow, young Benedict; and the heavy-set chap who played the part of engineer and general assistant, not having any particular reason for hating Frank and his chums, they only too gladly followed suit in shaking hands.

The rain began to come down a little harder, and Frank did not care to stay longer. So, followed by the good luck wishes of Ossie, and a hope that they might meet again in New Orleans, to which city he meant to hasten, now that his boat was badly damaged, the three boys from thePot Luck hurried up the bank again.

They did get wet to some extent before gaining the shelter of the cabin; but to such hardy cruisers that was a small circumstance. Frank would have taken ten times the amount of soaking for the privilege of winning over so persistent a rival as Oswald Fredericks had been during the last year in college, and while upon the Mississippi voyage.

Great was Jerry’s surprise when he heard the story; and his disgust was sad to see when he realized that he had been cheated out of all this fun. As for Will, although he professed to having enjoyed the adventure immensely, still he never referred to it in later days without a regret that he had not been able to snap a few pictures of himself and chums, working like volunteer firemen to save the houseboat of their bitter enemy and rival from destruction.

The Lounger was gone at daylight, from which fact Frank judged that Ossie must have been exceedingly anxious to get the boat to some place where it could be repaired quickly, in order that he and his friends might finish their vacation aboard, before the time came to have it hauled all the way back to St. Paul; which only a man rolling in money could afford to have done, Bluff said.

“Well,” remarked Will, when they saw this, after starting forth themselves; “perhaps after all, it’s better that way. Oil and water can’t mix very well; and while Ossie was feeling pretty warm toward us last night, those cronies of his might set his mind against us again. Why, that Ellis has a hand that feels like a snake, or a cold-toad, when you take hold of it. I always despise a fellow like that. Seems to me he’s just made for trickery and cunning.”

Frank thought the same way, but did not express his opinion. Secretly he too was satisfied that they would not have to see more of the others during the voyage.

And so they went on, enjoying themselves day by day, meeting such troubles and difficulties as might arise from time to time with the same brave spirit that had always been a motto of the Outdoor Chums; and finally finding themselves safely tied up in a boatyard on the river front of the great city of the South, that seems to stand at the gateway of the Mississippi like a sentinel, guarding the entire valley against some threatening foreign enemy.

CHAPTER XXV – THE FINISH OF THE VOYAGE

“Tell them all to come in!”

A hearty voice uttered these words; and passing through a door, the three comrades of the houseboat found themselves in the presence of an elderly gentleman, who sat with a leg bound up, and resting on a chair. He had a thin face; but it was now wreathed with a genial smile, as he held out his hand to Will.

“Hello! Nephew Will Milton; glad you’ve arrived, safe and sound; and so these are your companions I’ve heard so much about, the Outdoor Chums? Well, after all, I’m beginning to believe the stories that have come to me about their prowess, and penetration; because in the first place you four boys have made this long voyage in good shape; look the picture of health; and last of all, you declined to be humbugged by any slippery case like Marcus Stackpole; eh?”

The boys looked at each other, too astonished for words; because Will had never written a single word to his uncle during the entire cruise; how then could he know anything about their unwelcome guest, who seemed determined to stick to the houseboat until it arrived in New Orleans, and whom they had only been able to get rid of through a clever ruse.

“Wonder how I knew about it; eh?” laughed the old gentleman, who had spent many years of his life in seeking sport under every sun, being a born Nimrod, as Will had long ago informed them. “Well, I’ll let you into the secret, boys. I used to get a letter every little while, written on board the houseboat, which I see you aptly named the Pot Luck. And he wrote them all!”

“But,” exclaimed Will, his eyes wide with surprise, “we don’t understand it, Uncle Felix. You seemed so bent on not having us let that man aboard at all; and above everything warned us not to allow him to be there when we reached New Orleans; and yet you say he was writing to you all the while?”

“Why, I must have had a dozen letters about your carryings on,” continued the old sportsman, still laughing at the puzzled looks on their faces; “and Marcus did you all justice, I’ll wager, for he’s a good hand at describing things, Marcus is. But all the same, I’m going to have you tell me everything that happened, from the time you started out. I’m deeply interested in the voyage you made; and unless I miss my guess, you’re just the stripe of young heroes the accounts said.”

“But, Uncle, we can’t tell you anything at all until you satisfy our curiosity,” declared Will, resolutely.

“I suppose that’s only natural,” the gentleman remarked, nodding.

“Why, just look at it yourself, Uncle,” Will went on, as the spokesman for the four chums, “ever since I got your letter some months back, while still at college, we’ve been hammering our brains to understand just what it all meant. We had all sorts of ideas about it. One thought this Marcus Stackpole must be some bitter enemy of yours, who wanted to do you an injury.”

“And see here,” demanded Uncle Felix; “which one was it who was always so positive that I had some valuables secreted somewhere behind the paneled walls of the cabin, and kept on rapping and tapping every chance he got, trying to find the treasure trove?”

Jerry turned red, but he stood up manfully before the quizzical eyes of the old gentleman.

“That was I, sir,” he said, boldly. “I thought it was a good guess, after reading that letter you wrote our chum, Will. But I gave that up when we learned that our passenger, Luther Snow, must be the man, Marcus Stackpole. Because I saw then how silly the thing looked. If there had been any valuables hidden, and he knew where to find them, he wouldn’t have stuck to us like he did, but skipped out.”

“That’s correct, I guess, Jerry,” commented Mr. Milton. “And now to lift the curtain and let you understand what it was all about. Just a little wager, my boys, between myself and my friend Marcus; who has been my comrade on many a hunt through African wilds.”

“A wager!” faltered Bluff, weakly, looking at Frank; who smiled, as though some such idea might have flitted through his mind some time or other, to be dismissed as out of the question.

“Why, yes,” continued the owner of the houseboat. “We had heard a great lot of stuff about you four boys. My sister-in-law even took the trouble to send me some clippings concerning a rescue you made of a balloonist from the waters of the Mexican Gulf. So Marcus and myself got to discussing things, and as I had that houseboat up North, I proposed that I get you four to take a long voyage down the big Mississippi during your vacation, which was near at hand.”

“And that was something we’ll always thank you for, Uncle!” cried Will; “because we’ve surely had one of the finest times of our lives.”

“Well, to go on,” continued Mr. Milton, who it was evident was eager to hear an account of the entire trip from first hands; “one word led to another, I standing up for my nephew and his chums; and Marcus declaring that he’d wager a big sum he could hoodwink the whole lot of you.”

“He did, and he didn’t!” broke in Will, just then.

“Finally it was settled that the wager should be along these lines,” Mr. Milton went on to say; “I was to write the letter I did, and which was partly dictated by Marcus himself. Then later, he was to meet you on the trip, and in some way manage to accompany you, in spite of my request that you take no passengers, and least of all the man called Marcus Stackpole. If he was aboard the boat when you came into New Orleans, with or without your knowledge, I was to lose; but if he found himself unable to get aboard, or stay there to the end after making a lodgment, Marcus was to admit that he was beaten. That’s the story in a nutshell.”

“Then you must have heard from him, sir,” remarked Frank; “how we finally left him behind at Memphis, after penetrating his disguise?”

“Yes, he wrote me about it, and here is his letter. Let me read it to you, for it is really very short; and afterwards you’re to spend hours telling me everything that happened from the hour you left St. Paul up to the time you landed here in New Orleans.”

“Agreed, Uncle!” cried the delighted Will.

So Uncle Felix, with many chuckles, as though he thoroughly enjoyed the affair, especially the way it terminated, opened a crumpled sheet of paper, and read aloud:

—

“After all my boasting in previous letters how cleverly I was hoodwinking those wonderfully smart boys of yours, Felix, blessed if they didn’t see my lead, and go me one better. Here I am, stranded in Memphis, with ten dollars thrust into my pocket, and a note telling me that they are on to my little game, and bidding me good-by. No use trying to deceive them again, and I own up beaten. They’re a fine, manly lot of young chaps, and I’ve grown to love them as if they were my own boys during the time I’ve been watching them. Just now I must chase across to Chattanooga to settle a matter that had been suddenly thrust upon me; but if they are still with you in Orleans when I get there, it will be the greatest pleasure of my life to renew my acquaintance with Frank, Jerry, Bluff, and not forgetting your nephew Will.

“Your old campmate,

“Marcus Stackpole.”

By this time all the boys wore wide grins, just as though they felt like shaking hands with each other, in congratulation over the fact that, after all their narrow escapes, they had in the end caused this friend of Uncle Felix to lose his wager.

And they were still in the strange old city of the lower Mississippi at the time Marcus Stackpole, whom they had known as Luther Snow, arrived. All of them were very glad to meet him again, for, as has been mentioned more than once, the boys realized that there had been something attractive about the passenger who came to them in such a singular way.

Many were the laughs that went around, when the story was retold; especially as Frank related how he set a little trap for Luther, to find out whether he had ever been a carpenter; because his hands looked too free from calloused spots, such as might have been expected upon the palms of one who had to earn his daily bread at carpenter work.

“That’s a good one on you, Marcus,” declared Uncle Felix; “the idea of you choosing that vocation on the spur of the moment, when you are the poorest joiner I ever knew. No wonder a sharp lad, like Frank here, could trip you up. But on the whole, I think you have all enjoyed your vacation immensely; and you’ll go back to college more than willing to work because of the good time you’ve had; eh, boys?”

Upon that they were all agreed, and there was no hesitation about telling Uncle Felix so.

“Perhaps, when your next vacation comes around, we can have something else hatched up that will give you an equal amount of pleasure,” the other continued, for it was evident that he had become very fond of Will and his chums during the week they had been with him.

And the reader may be sure that if fortune is so kind as to allow the Outdoor Chums further chances to enjoy an adventurous trip like those they have known in the past it will give us pleasure to write of the occasion, so that a host of friends may enjoy it with us. Until such time comes, then, we must say good-by.