Part 10 (2/2)

In the mean time the _Whatnot_ had reached the town to which he was returning, and was now tied up just below the wharf-boat. It had been decided that the first exhibition of the ”Floating Panoramic Show”

should be given here, and Cap'n Cod went up into the town as soon as they arrived to have some bills printed. Winn, at the same time, started along the water-front to search for traces of his lost raft; and Sabella, who was very fond of dogs, went aboard the wharf-boat to make the acquaintance of a fine bull-dog she had noticed there as they pa.s.sed.

At supper-time they all gathered again in the living-room of the _Whatnot_, where Sabella reported her new friend to be the most splendid bull-dog she had ever seen, and that his name was Bim.

This name at once attracted Winn's attention, and he said he had an uncle somewhere out in California who owned a dog named Bim. Then the boy reported that nothing had been seen or heard of his raft, though he did not tell them he had discovered Sheriff Riley's skiff.

Cap'n Cod remarked that if he could only claim all the rewards he had just seen offered, he could afford to run the _Whatnot_ by steam.

”There is one of a thousand dollars,” he said, ”for any information that will lead to the capture of a gang of counterfeiters, supposed to be operating in this vicinity. Then there is one of a hundred dollars for the arrest of the fellow who ran off with Sheriff Riley's skiff, and who is supposed to be a member of the same gang. There is still another, of an equal amount, for any information as to the whereabouts, if he is still living, or for the recovery of the body of a boy named Caspar, the only son of my old friend, Major John Caspar, of Caspar's Mill, in Wisconsin. He has disappeared most unaccountably, together with a raft owned by his father. By-the-way, his first name is the same as your last one, which is a little odd, for Winn is not a common name. That's what it is, though, 'Winn Caspar.'”

CHAPTER XIX.

A CURIOUS COMPLICATION.

”So that is what I was arrested for, is it?” thought Winn. ”I was supposed to be one of a gang of counterfeiters, and a pretty desperate sort of a character. That will be a pretty good joke to tell father.

But I wonder who is offering a reward for me as plain every-day Winn Caspar, besides the one that would be paid for the young counterfeiter who ran off with the Sheriff's boat?”

This is what Winn thought. What he said was, ”My! but that is a lot of money! Wouldn't it be fine if we could earn those twelve hundred dollars?”

”Indeed it would,” answered the old man. ”Even one of the smaller rewards would buy us a mule.”

”Who is offering them?” asked Winn.

”The Government offers the first, Sheriff Riley the second, and the third is offered by some one named Brickell. 'W. Brickell,' the bills are signed. I saw them up at the printing-office, but they are being distributed all over the place.”

Sure enough, in that wretched little printing-office the compositor had made ”Brickell” out of Brackett, and as he was his own proof-reader, the mistake was not discovered.

”Brickell,” repeated Winn, slowly. ”That is a queer name, and one that I never heard before.”

”Yes, it is one that has puzzled me a good deal,” said Cap'n Cod. ”I'm sure I never heard Major Caspar mention any such person.”

”You know this Major Caspar, then?”

”Know him! Well, I should say I did. We were in the same regiment all through the war, and a better officer never commanded men. Know him!

I know him to the extent of a leg, lost when I was standing so close beside him that if I hadn't been there the ball would have taken his instead of mine. Know him! Didn't I know him for three months in the hospital, where he came to see me every day? Indeed I do know Major Caspar, and I should be mighty glad to know of any way in which I could help him out of his present trouble.”

”It is strange that I never heard father speak of any Aleck Fifield,”

thought Winn. He was about to ask some more questions, but was restrained by the remembrance of his present peculiar position. The same thought checked his inclination to say, ”I am Winn Caspar, sir, the son of your friend Major Caspar, of Caspar's Mill.” Instead of that he said to himself, ”I will wait until we get away from this place; or, at any rate, until I can receive a letter from home that will prove who I am. Otherwise he might find out about the Sheriff's skiff, and think I had made up the story to escape arrest as a thief.”

So Winn held his peace, and only asked his host if he would furnish him the materials for writing a letter home. Provided with these, he wrote to his mother as follows:

”MANDRAKE, IOWA.

”MY OWN DEAR MOTHER,--I write to you instead of to father, as I suppose he must be somewhere on the river hunting for me by this time, though I have not seen him yet.

<script>