Promptly at eight the start was made, for they were to have a great trip that day, unless some unexpected trouble arose to alter their plans. The current of the river was now very manifest. Jack even ventured out further upon the vast flood than at any previous time, wishing to get all the advantage possible, so as to make Cairo before the hour came to haul in. Both of them noticed a vast difference in their progress. Even if the current were only a mile an hour faster there than close to the shore, that must count considerably in their favor during the day. "It's moighty foine ridin' out here this way, I'm thinkin'," remarked Jimmie, after they had been booming along for several hours on the swift tide, with the little engine doing its prettiest all the while. "You're right," replied Jack, "though I'd just hate to have any accident happen while it lasts. We're a long ways from shore, Jimmie, remember." "But the swimmin's foine, by the same token," was the immediate response of the ready-witted Irish lad, who never took trouble by the forelock, believing there was always time enough for worrying after things had happened. As had become their habit, they ate a cold lunch at noon, though Jimmie hinted broadly that it might pay them to pull in closer to the shore, and anchor, while he made a pot of coffee. The afternoon began to wane as they came in sight of Cairo on its low point of land at the junction of the two great streams. "My sowl, whativer becomes of all the wather?" exclaimed Jimmie, as they passed the mouth of the Ohio, and could see the great flood of turgid water that was pouring into the Mississippi, there having evidently been something of a rain to the eastward recently. "Oh! this is only a swallow to the ocean, Jimmie," laughed his comrade. "Just wait until we get our first peep at that, and then talk." "Sure we same just loike a teenty chip on it all, and I'm growing nervous, so I am," remarked the Irish boy, looking from side to side at the heaving flood that was bearing the motor boat so swiftly on her way. "Well," returned Jack, soothingly, "if you observe you'll see that I've already headed her in toward the shore on the left. That would be Kentucky now; and somewhere between the junction and the ten mile mark, as we can guess it, is our next station. I wonder if the _Wireless_ is there, and has George grown sick waiting." The boat rolled considerably when Jack steered her slanting with the current; but there was never a time when the young pilot did not have her under complete control; and if a wave that was larger than ordinary swooped down toward them he instantly changed the course so that it followed behind, and would not strike the _Tramp_ on the counter, and splash water aboard.