The River Prophet Part 26

Terabon was just a raw young man as regards women. He might flatter himself that he knew her s.e.x, and that he could maintain a pose of writing her into his notebooks, but she knew. She had seen stunned and helpless youth as she brought into play those subtle arts which had wrenched from his reluctant and fearful soul the kiss which he thought he had asked for, and the phrase of the river G.o.ddess, which he thought he had invented. She laughed, for she had realized, as she acted, that he would put into words the subtle name for which she had played.

It all seemed so easy now that she considered the sequence of her inspired moves. Drifting near another shanty-boat, she pa.s.sed the time of day with a runaway couple who had come down the Ohio. They had dinner together on their boat. A solitaire and an unscarred wedding ring attested to the respectability of the a.s.sociation.

"Larry's a river drifter," the girl explained, "and Daddy's one of those set old fellows who hate the river. But Mamma knew it was all right.

Larry's saved $7,000 in three years. He'd never tell me that till I married him, but I knew. We're going clear down to N'Orleans. Are you?"

"Probably."

"And all alone--aren't you afraid?"

"Oh, I'll be all right, won't I?" She looked at the stern-featured youth.

"If you can shoot and don't care," Larry replied without a smile.

"I can shoot," Nelia said, showing her pistol.

"That's river Law!" Larry cried, smiling. "That's Law. You came out the Upper River?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Then I bet----" the girl-wife started to speak, but stopped, blus.h.i.+ng.

"Yes," Nelia smiled a hard smile. "I'm the woman who shot Prebol above Buffalo Island--I had to."

"You did right; men always respect a lady if she don't care who she shoots," Larry cried, enthusiastically. "Wish you'd get my wife to learn how to shoot. She's gun shy!"

So Nelia coaxed the little wife to shoot, first the 22-calibre repeating rifle and then the pistol. When Nelia had to go down they parted good friends and Larry thanked her, saying that probably they would meet down below somewhere.

"You'll make Caruthersville," Larry told her. "There's a good eddy on the east side across from the town. There's likely some boats in there.

They'll know, perhaps, if the folks you are looking for are around.

There's an old river man there now, name of Buck. He's a gambler, but he's all right, and he'll treat you all right. He's from up in our country, on the Ohio. Hardly anybody knows about him. He was always a dandy fellow, but he married a woman that wasn't fit to drink his coffee. She bothered the life out of him, and--well, he squared up. He gave her to the other fellow with a double-barrelled shotgun."

When Nelia ran down to the gambling boat and found Parson Rasba there, she enjoyed the idea. Certainly the River Prophet and the river gambler were an interesting combination. She was not prepared to find that Buck had taken his departure and that Parson Rasba was converting the gambling h.e.l.l into a mission boat. Least of all was she prepared when Parson Rasba said with an unsteady voice:

"Theh's a man sick in that other boat, and likely he'd like to see somebody."

"Oh, if there's anything I can do!" she exclaimed, as a woman does.

He led the way to the brick-red little boat, the like of which could be found in a thousand river eddies. She followed him on board and over to the bed. There she looked into the wan countenance and startled eyes of Jest Prebol.

"Hit's Mister Prebol," Rasba said. "I know you have no hard feelings against him, and I know he has none against you, Missy Carline!"

An introduction to a contrite river pirate, whom she had shot, for the moment rendered the young woman speechless. Prebol was less at loss for words.

"I'm glad to git to see yo'," he said, feebly. "If I'd knowed yo', I sh.o.r.e would have minded my own business. I'm bad, Missy Carline, but I ain' mean--not much. Leastwise, not about women. I reckon the boys sh.o.r.e will let yo' be now. I made a mistake, an' I 'low to 'pologise to yo'."

"I was--I was scairt to death," she cried, sitting in a chair. "I was all alone. I was afraid--the river was so big that night. I was so far away. I should have given you fair warning. I'm sorry, too, Jest."

"Lawse!" Prebol choked. "Say hit thataway ag'in----"

"I'm sorry, too, Jest!"

"I cayn't thank yo' all enough," the man-whispered. "I've got friends along down the riveh. I'll send word along to them, they'll sh.o.r.e treat yo' nice. Treat friends of yourn nice, too. Huh! 'Pologizin' to me afteh what I 'lowed to do!"

"We'll be good friends, Jest. The Prophet here and I are good friends, too. Aren't we, Parson?"

"I hearn say, Missy," the Prophet said, slowly, picking his words, "I hearn say you've a power and a heap of book learning! Books on yo' boat, all kinds. What favoured yo' thataway?"

"Oh, I read lots!" she exclaimed, surprised by the sudden s.h.i.+ft of thought. "Somehow, I've read lots!"

"In my house I had a Bible, an almanac, and the 'Resources of Tennessee,' Yo' have that many books?"

"Why, I've a hundred--more than a hundred books!" she answered.

"A Bible?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind, Missy, comin' on board this boat to-night, an' tellin'

us about these books you have? I'm not educated; my daddy an' I read the Bible, an' tried to understand hit. Seems like we neveh did git to know the biggest and bestest of the words."

"You had a dictionary?"

"A which?"

"A dictionary, a book that explains the meaning of all the words!"

"Ho law! A book that tells what words mean, Missy. Where all kin a man git to find one of them books?"

"Why, I've got----I'm hungry, Mr. Rasba, I must get something to eat.

After supper we'll bring some books over here and talk about them!"

"My supper is all ready, keeping warm in the oven," Rasba said. "I always cook enough for one more than there is. Yo' know, a vacant chair at the table for the Stranger."

"And I came?" she laughed.

"An' yo' came, Missy!" he replied.

"Parson," Prebol pleaded, "I'm alone mos' the time. Mout yo' two eat hyar on my bo't? The table--hit'd be comp'ny."

"Certainly we'll come," Nelia promised, "if he'd just soon."

"I'd rather," Rasba a.s.sented, and at his tone Nelia felt a curious sensation of pity and mischievousness. At the same time, she recovered her self-possession. She demanded that Rasba let her help him bring over the supper, add a feminine relish, and set the table with a daintiness which was an addition to the fascination of her presence. Gaily she fed Prebol the delicate things which he was permitted to eat, then sat down with Rasba, her face to the light, and Prebol could watch her bantering, teasing, teaching Parson Rasba things he had never known he lacked.

After supper she brought over a basket full of books, twenty volumes.

She dumped them onto the table, leather, cloth, and board covers, of red, blue, gray, brown, and other gay colours. Parson Rasba had seen government doc.u.ments and even some magazines with picture covers, but in the mountains where he had ridden his Big Circuit with such a disastrous end he had never seen such books. He hesitated to touch one; he cried out when three or four slipped off the pile onto the floor.

"Missy, won't they git muddied up!"