CHAPTER XX
AT MEMPHIS
About ten or twenty miles above Memphis the flatboat met a steamboat. Itwas out looking for the flatboat. Not only had bank officers and lawofficers arrived at Memphis, but they had become so apprehensive at thedelay of the flatboat that they had chartered the steamboat and gone insearch of her.
One of the bank officers came aboard, and to him Phil explained thesituation, receiving in return the warmest congratulations upon thecapture.
"We'll take you in tow," said the bank officer. "That will hurrymatters, and we've men waiting at the wharf with all the necessarypapers and arrest warrants."
"But you must land us above or below the town," said Phil.
"Why? Why not at the wharf?"
"Because we're making this voyage as cheaply as possible, and mustn'tpay any unnecessary wharfage fees."
"Wharfage fees be hanged!" replied the man. "I'll take care of allthat. Why, I'd pay your wharfage fees at every landing from here to NewOrleans. I'd buy your flatboat and all her cargo ten times over. Why,my boy, you don't know what a big piece of work you've done, or howgrateful we are. Wharfage fees!" with an accent of amused disgust. "Whatare wharfage fees when you've caught the fellow and secured the plunder?And even that isn't the best of it. The letters you've got"--for Philhad outlined their contents in his telegram to Cincinnati--"have enabledus to arrest the whole gang already. We've got 'em all, and you'reentitled to the credit of enabling us to break up the strongest band ofbank robbers that was ever organized in this country. So--" signallingto the steamer--"send a line aboard and we'll be at Memphis in an houror two. In the meantime you and your companions must take breakfast onthe steamboat."
The flatboat was quickly made fast at the side of the steamer, and threeof the boys went aboard for breakfast, the other two following when thefirst three returned. For until all legal forms should be completed, andJim Hughes safely delivered to the officers of the law, Phil had nonotion of leaving that worthy or the flatboat holding him, in charge ofanybody except himself or his comrades. When he himself went tobreakfast, he left Irv Strong in command, with Constant for hisassistant, and Ed as guard over Hughes in the cabin.
At Memphis the legal formalities were conducted on the part of the boysby a lawyer whom Phil employed to see to it that their interests shouldbe guarded. They lay there for two days. Jim Hughes was delivered to theauthorities. The reward of five thousand dollars was paid over to Philin currency. He divided the money equally among the crew. But as itwould never do to carry so great a sum with them on the flatboat, theyconverted it into drafts on New York, which all the boys sent to thebank in Vevay, the money to be held there till their return.
As to supplies for the flatboat, the Cincinnati banker made some lavishgifts. He sent on board fresh beef enough to last several days, fourhams, two strips of bacon, two pieces of dried beef, ten pounds ofcoffee, five pounds of tea, a bag of flour, a sack of salt, a dozenloaves of fresh bread, a big box of crackers, five pounds of butter, abasket of eggs, two or three cases of canned vegetables and fruits, somecanned soups, a large can of milk packed in ice, a sack of dried beans,a bunch of bananas, a box of oranges, and finally, a large, iced cakewith miniature American flags stuck all over it.
"I can talk now," said Hughes to Ed, after the law officers had receivedand handcuffed him; "and I've got just one thing to say. I never hadanything against any of you fellows except that brother Phil of yours.But for his meddling, I'd be a free man now. I've 'got it in for' him."
"Oh, as to that," drawled Irv Strong, "by the time you've served yourten or twenty years in State Prison, I imagine Phil will be sufficientlygrown up to hold his own with you. He's a 'pretty sizable' fellow evennow, for his age."
"Tell us something more interesting, Jim," said Will Moreraud. "Tell uswhy you tried to run us on Vevay Bar and again on Craig's Bar."
"I didn't try to run you on them. I tried to run you behind them intothe Kentucky shore channel."
"What for?"
"Oh, I was in a hurry to get down the river, and I didn't want you tomake that long stop at Craig's Landing. If I could have run you behindthose bars, you'd have been at Carrollton before you could pull up, andof course it wouldn't have paid you to get the boat towed back up theriver. I was trying to hurry, that's all; and I knew the river betterthan Captain Phil suspected."
That was all of farewell there was between the crew of _The Last of theFlatboats_ and her late pilot. When some one suggested to Phil that heshould speak for the party and express regret at the necessity that hadgoverned their course, Phil said:--
"But I don't feel the least regret. I am glad we've secured him and hisgang. It restores a lot of plunder to the people to whom it belongs; itbreaks up a very dangerous band of burglars; and it will help teachother persons of that kind how risky it is to live by law-breaking.Perhaps it will help to keep many people honest. No, I'm not sorry thatwe've been able to render so great a service to the public, and I'm notgoing to pretend that I am."
"You're right, Phil," said Ed.
"Of course he is," said Irv; "and as for Jim Hughes, he will get onlywhat he deserves. If there were no laws, or if they were not enforced bythe punishment of crime, there wouldn't be much 'show' for honest peoplein this world."
"There wouldn't be any honest people, I reckon," said Will, "for honestpeople simply couldn't live. Everybody would have to turn savage androbber, or starve to death."
"Yes," said Ed. "That's how law originated, and civilization is simply astate of existence in which there are laws enough to restrain wrong.When the savage finds that he can't defend himself single-handed againstmurder and robbery, he joins with other savages for that purpose. Thatmakes a tribe. It must have rules to govern it, and they are laws. It isout of the tribal organization that all civilized society has grown,mainly by the making of better and better laws, or by the better andbetter enforcement of laws already made."
"Then are we all savages, restrained only by law from indulging in everysort of crime?" asked Phil. "I, for one, don't feel myself to be inthat condition of mind."
"By no means," replied the elder boy. "We are the products of habitand heredity. We have lost most of our savage instincts by havingrestrained them through generations, just as cows and dogs have done.You see, it is a law of nature that parents are apt to transmit theirown characteristics to their children. As one of the great scientificwriters puts it, 'the habit of one generation is the instinct of thenext.' If you want a dog to hunt with, you choose one whose ancestorshave been in the habit of hunting, because you know that he hasinherited the habit as an instinct. Yet the highest-bred setters,pointers, and fox hounds are all descended ultimately from a commonancestry of wild dogs, as fierce, probably, as any wolf ever was.They have been for many generations under law,--the law of man'scontrol,--and so they have not only lost their wildness, but haveacquired new instincts, new capacities, and a new intelligence."
"I see," said Phil, meditatively. "It is a long-continued course oftimely spanking that has slowly changed us from savages into fellowsable to run a flatboat and inclined to wear trousers."
"Ah, as to that," said Irv, "we haven't quite got rid of our savageinstincts even yet. I for one am savagely hungry for some of that beefour Cincinnati friend sent on board, and I suspect the rest of the tribeare in the same condition."