river tradition, and whose specializing every one with ears had heard about—the tiny germs of truth, and fixed them.
Two of these minds were Frest's and Macrado's. They were acting on their suspicions. But Macrado had two minds in the matter. He was not lacking in imagination and the daring that takes a long chance; perhaps of all the river observers, he had determined upon taking the longest chance of all.
When the card game ended, and Frest was folding up the table to put it away, Macrado took the second step in his own private plan. With a leather slung-shot, wielded with a short, savage swing, he tapped Frest behind the right ear, felling him as a sledge fells an ox.
Then Macrado pulled out the horsehide money-belt which Frest wore, and in which he had gathered his savings from junking for years. Having searched the man's pockets, so that nothing of value could escape, Macrado dragged the unfortunate junker out into the cockpit, and having hoisted the anchor, steered out of the Chute up stream into the main channel of the river. Landing at a sandbar, Macrado scooped up two pails full of sand and backed out and steered across into the deep water opposite a caving bend.
There he made certain that Junker Frest would never return to disturb him as a corpse, by doing what
