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A MISSING HOUSEBOAT

      "Let us go down the river and see if the Dora is behind yonder trees," suggested Sam, after he had had time to digest what his brother had said.

      "All right, if you say so," answered Tom. "But I feel it in my bones it won't do any good."

      The two brothers ran along the wet and slippery bank of the river, which at this point sprawled out into almost a lake. They had to walk around several wet places and were pretty well out of wind by the time they gained the patch of wood the youngest Rover had pointed out. They ran to a point where they could get a clear view of the stream for a full mile.

      "Gone – just as I told you," said Tom, laconically.

      "Oh, Tom, do you really think that planter stole the houseboat?"

      "I don't know what to think, to tell the truth. We have fallen in with all kinds of evil characters since we began this trip."

      "Even if we go back to Dick and the others and tell them, what good will it do?"

      "I don't really know. But I am going to tell Dick, just as fast as I can."

      There seemed really nothing else to do, and with heavy hearts Sam and Tom retraced their steps to where the Dora had been tied up, and started to return to town.

      "This will certainly worry the ladies and the girls a good deal," observed Sam, as they hurried along. "If the houseboat is gone, we can't continue the trip."

      "They won't be worried any more than we are, Sam. It's hard lines all around. If that planter really stole the boat he ought to suffer for it."

      "Just what I say."

      The brothers soon came in sight of Shapette, – a small settlement where half of the inhabitants were of French extraction. As they reached one of the streets they heard a cheerful whistle.

      "That's Dick!" said Sam. "He won't whistle so happily when he learns the news."

      "Hullo!" came from Dick Rover, as he caught sight of his brothers.

      "What brings you back so soon?"

      "Thought you were going to stay on the houseboat until we got there," added Fred Garrison, who, with Hans Mueller, accompanied the eldest Rover.

      "There is no houseboat to stay on," answered Tom.

      "What!"

      "The houseboat is gone – and so is that planter who said he'd take care of her."

      "Mine cracious me!" burst out Hans Mueller. "You ton't tole me alretty!"

      "Tom, you don't mean – " Dick paused.

      "The houseboat is gone, clean and clear, Dick."

      "And that planter, Gasper Pold – "

      "Is gone too," returned Sam. "And so is that carpenter who said he'd repair the craft."

      "This is certainly too bad. Tell me the particulars," and Dick's face grew decidedly serious.

      "There isn't much to tell," said Tom. "We got there, looked around, made a search, and here we are. No boat in sight, no person to be seen, just nothing and nobody."

      "But the houseboat must be somewhere, Tom."

      "I agree with you, but not being a second-sight mind reader I can't tell you where."

      Alexander Pop, who was with the boys, had listened closely with his eyes rolling in wonder.

      "Fo' de Ian' sakes!" he ejaculated. "Dat's de wuss news I's heard in a long time. Seems lak da was no end of troubles fo' dis crowd!"

      "Well, if this doesn't beat the Dutch!" murmured Fred Garrison.

      "Yah, und it beats der Irish too alretty!" came from Hans Mueller. "Chust ven ve dink der sthars vos shinin' it begins to rain; eh, ain't dot so?"

      "You've struck the nail on the head, Hans," answered Sam. "I thought we'd have plain sailing from to-day, and now it looks as if we'd have no sailing at all!"

      "Boys," spoke up Dick, sharply, "if that houseboat has been stolen we must get the craft back."

      "So say I, Dick," answered Tom. "But how are you going to begin about it?"

      "That remains to be seen. Of one thing I am pretty certain – if the houseboat went anywhere it went down the stream. Only a powerful tug or steamboat could pull such a boat up this mighty river."

      "That's true – and we must look down the Mississippi for the craft," said Fred.

      "Where is Songbird?" asked Tom.

      "I left him with the ladies and the girls. They will be along presently, in a carriage," answered Dick.

      "There won't be any use of the ladies and girls going down to the river, so long as the Dora is missing," said Sam. "They'll have to stay in town, or go back to that sugar plantation, until we learn about the craft."

      It was decided that Sam should join the other crowd and acquaint them with the news. He found them at one of the stores, where Mrs. Stanhope was buying some embroidery silk.

      "Have you got tired of waiting for us, Sam?" asked Grace Laning, who was the first to see the youngest Rover.

      "Oh, I've got bad news, Grace." And then he told the girl of what had occurred, in the midst of which the others came up.

      "Missing again!" ejaculated Songbird Powell. "Too bad! What's to be done?"

      "We don't know yet."

      The ladies were much alarmed and so were the girls. Sam did what he could to quiet their fears, yet he felt unhappy himself.

      "I did not like the looks of that planter at all," declared Dora Stanhope. "He had the face of a sneak. I was going to speak to Dick about it, and I am sorry now that I didn't."

      "I presume we shall have to remain here until you find the houseboat," came from Mrs. Laning.

      "Either here or at the sugar plantation," answered Sam.

      "What will you do?"

      "I don't know yet – probably go down the river and look for the Dora.

      She is so large they can't hide her very well."

      "Maybe the current of the river carried her away and the planter got scared and left," suggested Songbird. "You'll remember, she broke away once before."

      "She couldn't break away – she was tied up good and tight," answered Sam, decidedly.

      "Well, if you cannot find the houseboat, we'll have to go home from here instead of from New Orleans," said Mrs. Stanhope. "That will shorten our trip somewhat but not a great deal. But I hope, for your uncle's sake, that you get his property back."

      "We'll do that, or know the reason why," answered Sam.

      "What's this trouble about your houseboat?" asked the storekeeper, who had caught part of the conversation.

      "It's missing."

      "So you said. Too bad!"

      "Do you know the planter who had charge of the craft?" went on Sam.

      "He was tall and thin and went by the name of Gasper Pold."

      "What, did you leave your boat with that man? You should have known better. Didn't you know Pold was an old lottery sharp?"

      "We did not."

      "Well, he is, and has cheated many a poor white man and nigger out of his hard-earned savings. He's in bad flavor around here, and some of the citizens were just about to ask him to leave or run the risk of tar and feathers."

      "Well, he has left, and taken our houseboat with him," said Sam, bitterly. "What about Solly Jackson, the carpenter who was going to do some repairs for us?"

      "Oh, Solly's a fairly good kind, but years ago he used to work the lottery ticket game with Pold. He's an old bachelor and never has much to say about anything."

      "Has he any regular shop?"

      "Oh, no; he's a come-day-go-day sort of fellow, boards around, and like that."

      "Then

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