"Hello, what's up?  Don't cry, bub.  What's the trouble?"

I says:

"Pap, and mam, and sis, and—"

Then I broke down.  He says:

"Oh, dang it now, _don't_ take on so; we all has to have our troubles, and this 'n 'll come out all right.  What's the matter with 'em?"

"They're—they're—are you the watchman of the boat?"

"Yes," he says, kind of pretty-well-satisfied like.  "I'm the captain and the owner and the mate and the pilot and watchman and head deck-hand; and sometimes I'm the freight and passengers.  I ain't as rich as old Jim Hornback, and I can't be so blame' generous and good to Tom, Dick, and Harry as what he is, and slam around money the way he does; but I've told him a many a time 't I wouldn't trade places with him; for, says I, a sailor's life's the life for me, and I'm derned if _I'd_ live two mile out o' town, where there ain't nothing ever goin' on, not for all his spondulicks and as much more on top of it.  Says I—"

I broke in and says:

"They're in an awful peck of trouble, and—"

"_Who_ is?"

"Why, pap and mam and sis and Miss Hooker; and if you'd take your ferryboat and go up there—"

"Up where?  Where are they?"

"On the wreck."

"What wreck?"

"Why, there ain't but one."

"What, you don't mean the Walter Scott?"

"Yes."

"Good land! what are they doin' _there_, for gracious sakes?"

"Well, they didn't go there a-purpose."

"I bet they didn't!  Why, great goodness, there ain't no chance for 'em if they don't git off mighty quick!  Why, how in the nation did they ever git into such a scrape?"

"Easy enough.  Miss Hooker was a-visiting up there to the town—"

"Yes, Booth's Landing—go on."