"May I ask your honor," he resumed after a moment, "that you will act in the matter with such promptness as you can, as we very much desire to go on by the boat now about to leave?" Moth, however, had no intention of submitting the case without further hearing, and pushing forward, exclaimed: "I protest, your honor, that this—" However, he got no further, his protest falling on deaf ears. For the justice had heard enough, and holding up his hand to command silence, said: "I have to thank you, gentlemen, most heartily; and while listening to your statements have endeavored to weigh what you have said fairly. My conclusion is, that I have no right to act in the matter, and that being so, the case is dismissed." At this termination a great silence fell on the assemblage, followed by a shout of approval from every one present; but Mr. Lincoln, not waiting to hear more, grasped my hand, and turning, walked rapidly from the room. Gaining the boat, I looked back to see Moth, who had followed, regarding me with such savage determination that I shuddered at the sight, feeling that in him I had and should ever have a bitter and unforgiving enemy. *CHAPTER XVII* *THE SINGLETONS* At the time of which I speak steam was only just coming into use on the Mississippi, and men went far out of their way to see the great boats that plied back and forth, and seeing them, stood spellbound, as did I. Nor have change and lengthening years served in any way to dull the recollection of that far-off day. Every detail comes back to me now; the clanging bell, the hoarse whistle sounding croupily across the water, the great boat coming buoyantly on, its busy decks, the passengers standing by, the gurgling water, the swash of the wheels, the rhythmic music of the exhaust, the black smoke trailing on behind, and, most striking of all—so simple are the impressions of youth—the letters painted in vivid plainness on the surface of the rounded wheelhouse. Naught is wanting to complete the picture, and if by chance some sound like the deep bell or croaking whistle strikes on my listening ear, it awakens afresh the scenes of that far-off time as if they were but yesterday. Not, however, as then, to thrill with ecstasy, but rather with pleasurable melancholy, like an echo from the past, so sad it is. While the boat was making its way to the channel of the river, our little party ascended the stairs which led to the saloon above. Reaching the quarter-deck, what was our surprise to find Blott facing us, and unconcernedly, as if knowing us but casually, if at all. At sight of him, Uncle Job stopped abruptly, and after regarding him a moment, angrily inquired: "What are you doing here, constable?" "I’m holdin’ down this mattin’, an’ as you’ve got feet, s’pose you come an’ help me," Blott answered, moving about uneasily on the piece of carpet whereon he stood.