"Sure thing," replied Captain Marsh.
But at that moment a black smoke rolled up over the marshes, and
shortly around the bend from above came the LUCY BELLE.
The LUCY BELLE was the main excuse for calling the river navigable.
She made trips as often as she could between Redding and Monrovia.
In luck, she could cover the forty miles in a day. It was no
unusual thing, however, for the LUCY BELLE to hang up indefinitely
on some one of the numerous shifting sand bars. For that reason she
carried more imperishable freight than passengers. In appearance
she was two-storied, with twin smokestacks, an iron Indian on her
top, and a "splutter-behind" paddle-wheel.
"There comes his help," said Orde. "Old Simpson would stop to pick
up a bogus three-cent piece."
Sure enough, on hail from one of the rowboats, the LUCY BELLE slowed
down and stopped. After a short conference, she steamed clumsily
over to get hold of one end of the booms. The tug took the other.
In time, and by dint of much splashing, some collisions, and several
attempts, the ends of the booms were united.
By this time, however, nearly all the logs had escaped. The tug,
towing a string of rowboats, set out in pursuit.
The SPRITE continued on her way until beyond sight.
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