4

I was getting used to the life and liked it, and gradually I found my resolve to go west getting less and less strong; when late in the summer of 1854 something happened which restored it to me with tenfold strength.  We had reached Buffalo, had discharged our passengers and cargo, and were about starting on our eastward voyage when I met Bill, the sailor, as he was coming out of a water-front saloon.  I ran to him and called him by name; but at first he did not know me.

“This ain’t little Jake, is it?” he said.  “By mighty, I b’lieve it is!  W’y, you little runt, how you’ve growed.  Come in an’ have a drink with your ol’ friend Bill as nussed you when you was a baby!”

I asked to be excused; for I hadn’t learned to drink more than a thin glass of rum and water, and that only when I got chilled.  I turned the subject by asking him what he was doing; and at that he slapped his thigh and said he had great news for me.

“I’ve found that hump-backed bloke,” he said.  “He came down on the boat with us from Milwaukee.  I knowed him as soon as I seen him, but I couldn’t think all the v’yage what in time I wanted to find him fer.  You jest put it in my mind!”

“Where is he?” I shouted.  “You hain’t lost him, have you?”

Bill stood for quite a while chewing tobacco, and scratching his head.

“Where is he?” I yelled.

“Belay bellering,” said Bill.  “I’m jest tryin’ to think whuther he went on a boat east, or a railroad car, or a stage-coach, or went to a tavern.  He went to a tavern, that’s what he done.  A drayman I know took his dunnage!”

“Come on,” I cried, “and help me find the drayman!”

“I’ll have to study on this,” said Bill.  “My mind hain’t as active as usual.  I need somethin’ to brighten me up!”

“What do you need?” I inquired.  “Can’t you think where he stays?”

“A little rum,” he answered, “is great for the memory.  I b’lieve most any doctor’d advise a jorum of rum for a man in my fix, to restore the intellects.”

I took him back into the grog-shop and bought him rum, taking a very little myself, with a great deal of blackstrap and water.  Bill’s symptoms were such as to drive me to despair.  He sat looking at me like an old owl, and finally took my glass and sipped a little from it.

“Hain’t you never goin’ to grow up?” he asked; and poured out a big glass of the pure quill for me, and fiercely ordered me to drink it.  By this time I was desperate; so I smashed his glass and mine; and taking him by the throat I shook him and told him that if he did not take me to the hump-backed man or to the drayman, and that right off, I’d shut off his wind for good.  When he clinched with me I lifted him from the floor, turned him upside down, and lowered him head-first into an empty barrel.  By this time the saloon-keeper was on the spot making all sorts of threats about having us both arrested, and quite a crowd had gathered.  I lifted Bill out of the barrel and seated him in a chair, and paid for the glasses; all the time watching Bill for fear he might renew the tussle, and take me in flank; but he sat as if dazed until I had quieted matters down, when he rose and addressed the crowd.