Burrell drink. To Gale he whispered, a moment later:

"Keep your eye on him, John--he'll go mad at this rate."

They waited, it seemed interminably, until at last a white hull
slowly rounded the point, then shaped a course across the current
towards the other bank, where the water was less swift. As it came
fully into sight, Gale swore aloud in despair:

"It's the Mission boat!"

"Well, what of that?" said Burrell. "We'll hire it--buy it--take
it!"

"It's no use; she ain't got but three dog-power to her engines," Lee
explained. "She's a down-river boat--has to run with the current to
move."

"We can't use her," Gale gave in, reluctantly. "She'd only lose time
for us. We've got to wait for one of the A. C. boats."

"Wait!" cried Burrell. "Good God! we've done nothing but wait, WAIT,
_WAIT_! Let's do something!"

"You go back yonder and set down," commanded Lee. "We'll have a boat
before long."

The arrival of the tiny Mission steamer was never of sufficient
importance to draw a crowd to the riverbank, so the impatient men at
the post relaxed interest in her as she came creeping up abreast of