This gentleman was Henry Carroll, who had been in waiting three days for the sailing of the Chalmetta.  On his return from Georgia he had not deemed it prudent to visit Bellevue.  Of the startling events which had transpired there since his departure he was in entire ignorance.

“No prospect of getting off to-night, is there?” said he to Uncle Nathan.

“Not the least,” replied the latter.  “The cap’n just told me the mail hadn’t come, so he should have to wait till mornin’.”

Henry turned to Uncle Nathan rather sharply, to discover any mischief which might lurk in his expression.  Perceiving that he looked perfectly sincere, and was innocent of any intention to quiz him, he merely uttered, in the most contemptuous tone, the single word “Humbug!”

“You seem a leetle out o’ sorts,” returned Uncle Nathan, piqued at the coldness with which his intelligence was received.

“Well, sir, I think I have very good reason to be so,” returned Henry; “for I have lain about this boat, like a dead dragoon, for three days, in suspense.”

“You don’t say so!” responded Uncle Nathan, with interest.  “When did they tell you they should start?”

“The captain said in about ten minutes,” answered Henry, with a smile.

“Good gracious! he told me the same thing!” said Uncle Nathan, astonished at the coincidence.

“But I knew he lied, when he said so; yet the boat seemed full of passengers, and I did not expect to wait so long.”

“Don’t you think they will get started to-morrow?”

“I cannot venture an opinion, having been so often deceived.  The captain is trying to get a freight of soldiers on deck.  The city is full of them now, returning to their respective states.”

“Then he has taken me in most outrageously,” said the New Englander, with emphasis.

“A very common occurrence, sir,” replied Henry, who now explained to his companion some of the tricks of Western steamboat captains.

“Is there no remedy?” asked Uncle Nathan, anxiously.

“Certainly; you can go in the next boat, if you choose.  I shall take the ‘Belle of the West,’ which I am pretty well assured will sail to-morrow, if this one does not.  But I prefer this, as many of my friends go in her.”

“But will they give you back your passage-money again?” asked the economical Yankee.

“I have not paid it yet,” replied Henry, now understanding the position of his fellow-traveller.

“Then how did you secure a berth?  The sign in the cabin says ’No berth secured till paid for.’”

“I see how it is.  You have been dealing with these fellows as though they were honest men.”  He then explained that there is no security against imposition for travellers who pay their passage in advance, in case the boat gets aground, or the captain pleases to detain them an unreasonable time; that the “old stagers” never show their money till the trip is up; and much more useful information for the voyager on the Western rivers.