The colored gentleman looked as though it would only require the least encouragement for him to step in and swim across; but as this was not forthcoming he waved his ebony arm in farewell and turned back again.

Thad breathed easier.

Nevertheless, for hours he continued to scan the shore-line ahead; and once, when some unseen hunter fired at some sort of game back from the river’s edge, the sweep-tender was seen to duck his head mechanically, much to the amusement of his companion.

The day grew old, and they had made uninterrupted progress, not even stopping for the midday meal.  While Thad held the long oar his mate slung some sort of a hot meal together, which satisfied their voracious appetites and warmed them as well.

“Where’s your storm?” asked Thad, about the middle of the afternoon, as he glanced up at the sky.

“Here, you’re squinting in the wrong direction, man.  Suppose you look to the southward, a little veering toward the west.  Don’t you glimpse some dark clouds there?”

“Of course,” Thad agreed; “but that’s a poor sign.  Why, you can nearly always see some clouds hanging low down there.  It’s been getting warmed right smart.  That sun feels almost hot to me.”

“That’s a pretty good sign of rain, that seldom fails.  But what do we care!  Our roof don’t leak, Thad!”

“No, but it will be tough if the downpour comes just when we want to look for George Stormways and Bunny.  I suppose, though, we could tie up at Morehead and wait till it passes by.”

“Hope we haven’t passed it already,” said Maurice, looking serious.

“Oh!  I don’t think that could be possible, do you?  If the place is big enough to get marked on the chart, it ought to be of a size for two fellows to see it in passing.  And the two landings we did notice were other settlements, for we asked their names.  One man said Morehead was below a piece.  I’m expecting to see it soon.”

“Suppose we don’t till dark?” remarked Thad, always on the lookout for trouble.  “What are you going to do then?”

“Keep right along, sonny, until we see lights, when we can push in and tie up.  It’s Morehead or bust!”

“All right, you’re the skipper, I told you, Maurice.  The cook has ideas of his own, but he ain’t going to run counter of an experienced navigator like the boss.  But I hope we come across that station before dark.  You know the moon don’t rise till about nine now; so we can count on several hours of black sailing.”

Thad said no more, neither did his comrade make any attempt to continue the argument; for both of them were still hoping that Morehead would consent to show up inside of another hour.

But for some reason distances seemed unduly lengthened on this particular day, and the gloaming swooped down upon them with the coveted goal still undiscovered ahead.

Maurice was grimly set upon keeping his word.