“Bully!  That’s just fine for you, Maurice; but don’t you think the captain forgot one thing?” declared Thad.

“What’s that?” asked his friend, looking puzzled.

“Why didn’t he think to enclose the price of a ticket from here to New Orleans?  He might have known money didn’t grow on bushes around here.”

Maurice laughed.

“I always heard Uncle Ambrose was forgetful of small things, and I guess it’s true.  Never once entered his head when he was writing.  Perhaps it may later, and he’ll think to enclose the money from some foreign port.  Why, would you believe it, he didn’t even mention where the steamer was going to next; only remarked that they sailed in a day or so.  But the tone of the letter is warm, and—­why, of course I must accept the invitation.  It just seems to come in now at the one time I need it most.  You wouldn’t want me to let it pass, would you, Thad?”

“I should say not, even if it does hurt some to think of you going away and me staying in this bum old place,” said his friend, quickly giving Maurice an affectionate look that spoke volumes.

“If I could only go, too.  I’m dead sure uncle would be glad to have you with me on board; and think of the glorious times we could have.  Why, it seems too good to be true, doesn’t it?”

“I guess it does for me.  I’d like to go the worst kind, but where would I pick up the money to pay my way?  Of course I might float down the Mississippi on the Tramp all right, given time enough; but that would be kind of lonely business for one; now if you could only—­say, I wonder—­oh, bosh, of course you wouldn’t want to even think of it,” and he dropped his head dejectedly.

“Wouldn’t think of what?  Why don’t you go on and finish?  You’ve got some sort of a fine scheme in your head, so explain,” demanded Maurice, quickly.

“I was just thinking, that’s all, what a great time we might have if we did start out in my little bum boat to make New Orleans.  There’s three months ahead of us, and scores of shanty-boats float down from Cincinnati to Orleans every fall and winter—­you know that.  Gee! what fun we could have!” and the two boys started at each other for half a dozen seconds without saying a word; but those looks were more eloquent than all the language ever uttered.

Then Maurice thrust out his hand impulsively.

“Shake!  Do you really think we could do it, Thad?” he exclaimed.

“Do I?  Why, it would be as easy as pie.  Think of it; all you have to do is to let the current carry you along.  It’s a snap, that’s what!” cried the other, brimming over with enthusiasm.

Ah!  Thad was yet to learn that a thousand unforeseen difficulties lay in wait for those floating craft that drifted down the great water highway every winter; but “in the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail,” and to his eyes the enterprise was a veritable voyage of pleasure, nothing less.