“You know the steamer?”

“Yas, sah.  Ah’s seed her afore dis down et Saint Louee.  She uster run down de ribber—­she’s de John B. Glover.  She ain’t no great shakes ob a boat, sah.”

His eyes, which had been eagerly following the movements of the craft, turned and glanced at me.

“Now dey’s goin’ fer ter cross over, sah, so’s ter keep de channel.  Ah don’t reckon es how none o’ dem men kin see back yere no more.  Massa Kirby he wus aboard dat steamer, sah.”

“Kirby!  Are you sure about that, Sam?”

“’Course Ah’s sure.  Didn’t Ah see him just as plain as Ah see you right now?  He wus for-rad by de rail, near de pilot house, a watchin’ dis whole shore like a hawk.  Dat sure wus Massa Kirby all right, but dar wan’t nobody else ’long wid him.”

“But what could he be doing there on a troop boat?”

The negro scratched his head, momentarily puzzled by my question.

“Ah sure don’t know, sah,” he admitted.  “Only dat’s perzackly who it was.  Ah reckon dar ain’t no boat whut won’t take a passenger, an’ Kirby, he knows ebery captain ‘long dis ribber.  Ah figur’ it out ’bout dis way, sah; dat nobody kin tell yit which way we went—­up de ribber, er down de ribber.  Long cum de John B. Glover, an’ Massa Kirby he just take a chance, an’ goes aboard.  De sheriff he goes der odder way, down stream in a rowboat; an’ dat’s how dey aims ter sure head us off.”

I sat down at the edge of the bluff, convinced that the conclusions of the negro were probably correct.  That was undoubtedly about how it had happened.  To attempt pursuit up stream with only oars as propelling power, would be senseless, but the passage upward of this troop boat afforded Kirby an opportunity he would not be slow to accept.  Getting aboard would present no great difficulty, and his probable acquaintance with the captain would make the rest easy.

The steamer by this time was moving diagonally across the river, head toward the other shore, and was already so far away the men on deck were invisible.  It was scarcely probable that Kirby would go far northward, but just what course the man would take when once more ashore was problematical.  Where he might choose to seek for us could not be guessed.  Yet the mere fact that he was already above us on the river was in itself a matter for grave consideration.  Still, thus far we remained unlocated, and there was less danger in that direction than down stream.  Donaldson, angered by the loss of his boat, and the flight of Sam, would surely see to it that no craft slipped past St. Louis unchallenged.  In this respect he was more to be feared than Kirby, with a hundred miles of river to patrol; while, once we attained the Illinois, and made arrangements with Shrunk, the immediate danger would be over.  Then I need go no farther—­the end of the adventure might be left to others.  I looked up—­the steamer was a mere smudge on the distant bosom of the river.