The urgency of the problem, however, produced its own solution. Captain Sire had the alcohol all packed in barrels of flour. But he knew that even this device would not alone be enough, for the energetic agent would very likely have the barrels burst open. The Captain therefore had them all marked as if consigned to Peter A. Sarpy, the Company’s agent at Bellevue, and they were labeled in large letters “P. A. S.” The moment the nose of the boat touched the landing at Bellevue, the Captain, as was his custom, ordered the freight for that point placed on shore, and the barrels were promptly bowled out upon the bank and carried into the warehouse. The agent, never suspecting this freight, went on board, and after a most rigid search, found nothing wrong. The boat was permitted to proceed, but, contrary to its usual haste in getting away as soon as the loading and unloading were complete, it remained the rest of the day, and gave out that it would not sail until the following morning. The extraordinarily good character of the boat on this occasion, and the unusually long delay in departing, roused the suspicions of the agent, who stationed a man to watch the boat and to whistle if he saw anything wrong. Everything remained quiet until some time after midnight, except that a full head of steam was kept up in the boilers. Presently there was great activity on the boat, although with an ominous silence about it all. The pilot, Captain La Barge, was quietly engineering the reloading of the barrels. He had spread tarpaulins on the deck and gang plank to deaden the noise, and the full crew of the boat were hurrying the barrels back in a most lively fashion. “What does this mean?” one of the deckhands asked of another. “We unloaded these barrels yesterday.” “Why, don’t you see?” was the brilliant reply of another, “they’re marked ‘P. A. S.’; they’ve got to pass.” [Sidenote: THE PARTED LINE.] The work was quickly over and every barrel was on board, when the agent’s sleepy guard awoke to the fact that something was going on. He uttered his signal, and the agent made haste to turn out and see what was the matter. La Barge and Captain Sire, who knew full well what the whistle meant, did not linger to make explanations. Captain La Barge seized an ax and cut the line. “Get aboard, men!” he shouted; “the line has parted!” The boat instantly dropped back into the current and then stood out into the river under her own steam. She was already out of reach of the bank when the reverend inspector appeared and wanted to know why they were off so early. It was about 3 A. M. “Oh, the line parted,” replied Captain La Barge, “and it was so near time to start that it was not worth while to tie up again.”[23] [Sidenote: TOO MUCH FOR CREDULITY.]