“All right, set her in to the shore,” he said, making up his mind without any unnecessary mental discussion; for he believed that four stout and healthy lads ought to be equal to one decrepit old man, no matter how cunning he might prove; and after all they did not know a single thing against the truth of the sad story Luther Snow had told them. They had tied up, and were busily engaged in the various tasks that had been apportioned to each as his daily program, when Luther came along. Just as Will had remarked, he was limping badly, and looked most wretched. Frank thought that if this was put on instead of being real, then old Luther deserved credit for his extraordinary ability as an actor. He seemed greatly overjoyed at meeting them again, and between groans went around shaking hands with each one. “How do you happen to be here, Mr. Snow, and looking so miserable?” Frank asked, after the old man had been made comfortable by Will and Bluff; while Jerry actually hastened his preparations for supper, because he saw that the wretched carpenter was weak from fasting. “I went just as far as my money would carry me, and then the captain of the packet put me off at a little wood landing above,” came the reply. “Then I started to walk down to the next town, hoping to get some sort of work there; but I was weak from hunger; and I managed to slip, and sprain my ankle, so I was about ready to give it all up, and die right there, when I discovered your boat. It was like the coming of an angel to me, my friends, for you have been so kind to a wretched old man.” Will secretly dabbed at his eyes; and even Bluff winked several times, as if he felt keenly for a desolate old man, left alone in the world, and suffering. Only Frank, usually one of the first to lend a helping hand to anyone in distress, did not speak up, and assure Luther that he could still count on them to help him. Frank was watching him when he had the chance, trying to read the other; for he still hardly knew what to believe. During the progress of the supper, which they had aboard the _Pot Luck_, Luther was very quiet. He even seemed sick, in truth, and Frank knew he would not have the heart to put him ashore. If they carried an old and weak man some distance on his journey, that could hardly interfere with the directions given by the owner of the houseboat; who, Will had admitted, was something of a queer character himself, and hardly to be taken seriously. And so, after a consultation among themselves out on the deck, while Luther dozed in his chair in the cabin, the boys decided to give him a lift part of the way down to New Orleans. When they grew tired of having him along, they could make up a purse perhaps, and gather sufficient funds to buy him a railroad ticket, say from Memphis to his intended destination.