Great was the joshing that followed the landing of the two missing boats. And the skipper of the staunch _Comfort_, as well as the crew thereof, laughed as though they would take a fit when they heard what a mess of it the others had made in trying the cut-off so warmly recommended by the planter, Mr. Tweed, who meant well, of course, but came near wrecking the whole expedition. Their next stop would be in Vicksburg; and when the start was made in the morning George never got out of hailing distance of the _Tramp_. Sometimes he would be ahead; but if so, he would slow down and allow the other to overtake him. Another strange thing occurred on this day's run. At no time was the big _Comfort_ hull down in the distance. It seemed that, by taking advantage of the swift water away out there in the middle of the river, Herb's craft could overcome the difference in speed between the _Tramp_ and herself. And when at about half-past three the leaders found a place to draw in for the night, reliable old _Comfort_ came booming along not fifteen minutes later. Apparently, then, there was now no reason for their separating. This idea pleased them all, for they liked the social life of the camp, where they could exchange yarns, compare notes, josh each other as the whim seized them, and lay plans for future cruises of the motor boat club. Vicksburg was reached without mishap on the next leg of the journey, although on account of staying in camp over Sunday, it was Monday afternoon when they looked upon the city made famous during the Civil War by Grant's persistence and strategy. At the mouth of the big Yazoo George came near having a serious time of it; for his cranky little speed boat was caught in a swirl of mingling waters, and came within an ace of swamping. Only for the action of the frightened Nick in throwing his great bulk the other way, just by instinct, the _Wireless_ would have gone completely over. And Nick was always proud of what he was pleased to term his quick wit in an emergency. It took the place of those wonderful "wings" in his conversation; and often George had to threaten dire things unless he called a halt in his boasting. On Tuesday they put out together, and that night lay over about half way down to what had been marked as Station Number Eight. Here a storm kept them shut up a full day, so that it was Thursday again before they proceeded. On Saturday afternoon Jack announced the glad tidings that he believed they had crossed the border of Louisiana. The others celebrated that night with an extra grand feed, since Nick had managed to purchase a couple of chickens from a man he met when George was tinkering with his engine, and the crew had gone ashore to stretch his dumpy legs.