get people to do something, but they said, 'What, in such a night and such a current? There ain't no sense in it; go for the steam ferry.'  Now if you'll go and--” “By Jackson, I'd _like_ to, and, blame it, I don't know but I will; but who in the dingnation's a-going' to _pay_ for it?  Do you reckon your pap--” “Why _that's_ all right.  Miss Hooker she tole me, _particular_, that her uncle Hornback--” “Great guns! is _he_ her uncle?  Looky here, you break for that light over yonder-way, and turn out west when you git there, and about a quarter of a mile out you'll come to the tavern; tell 'em to dart you out to Jim Hornback's, and he'll foot the bill.  And don't you fool around any, because he'll want to know the news.  Tell him I'll have his niece all safe before he can get to town.  Hump yourself, now; I'm a-going up around the corner here to roust out my engineer.” I struck for the light, but as soon as he turned the corner I went back and got into my skiff and bailed her out, and then pulled up shore in the easy water about six hundred yards, and tucked myself in among some woodboats; for I couldn't rest easy till I could see the ferryboat start. But take it all around, I was feeling ruther comfortable on accounts of taking all this trouble for that gang, for not many would a done it.  I wished the widow knowed about it.  I judged she would be proud of me for helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and dead beats is the kind the widow and good people takes the most interest in. Well, before long here comes the wreck, dim and dusky, sliding along down! A kind of cold shiver went through me, and then I struck out for her.  She was very deep, and I see in a minute there warn't much chance for anybody being alive in her.  I pulled all around her and hollered a little, but there wasn't any answer; all dead still.  I felt a little bit heavy-hearted about the gang, but not much, for I reckoned if they could stand it I could. Then here comes the ferryboa