The Last of the Flatboats

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  THE LAST LANDING

  As _The Last of the Flatboats_ passed the upper part of New Orleans, theboys were disposed to gaze at the strangely beautiful city. It wasgreater in size than any city that they had ever seen; for none of themhad visited Cincinnati, though they had lived all their lives withinsixty or seventy miles of it. New Orleans was different in architecture,situation, and everything else from Louisville and Memphis, cities atwhich they had looked up from the river, while at New Orleans they foundthemselves looking down, and taking almost a bird's-eye view of thecity. Then, too, the palm gardens, the evergreen trees, and glimpsesevery now and then of great parterres of flowers, growing gayly in theopen air even in late autumn, filled them with the feeling that somehowthey had come into a world quite different from any they had everdreamed of before.

  Finally, there were the miles of levee, thickly bordered with steamshipsand sailing craft of every kind, all so new to them as to be a show intheir eyes. The forests of masts, the towering elevators, the wharvespiled high with cotton in bales and sugar in hogsheads and great pilesof tropical fruits, appealed strongly to their imaginations. There was asoft languor in the atmosphere, and the red sunlight shone through asort of Indian summer haze, which made the city look dream-like, or asif seen through a fleecy, pink veil.

  Presently Phil put an end to their musings.

  "Stand by the sweeps!" he called, himself going to the steering-oar. "Wemust make a landing, if we ever find a vacant spot at the levee that'sbig enough to run into."

  "I say, Phil," said Irv, presently, "there comes somebody in a skiff tomeet us; perhaps it's some wharf-master to tell us where to land."

  A few minutes later the skiff, rowed by a stout negro man, reached theboat, and a carefully dressed young man who had sat in the sterndismissed the negro and his skiff, and came aboard.

  To Phil he handed his card, introducing himself as one of the freightclerks of the commission merchant to whom the planter had recommendedthem. It appeared that the planter had not been content with giving thema letter of introduction, but had written by mail from Vicksburg, andthis was the result.

  "Mr. Kennedy thought you might have some difficulty in finding theproper landing, so he told me to board you and show you the way."

  Phil thanked him, and under the man's guidance _The Last of theFlatboats_ made the last of her landings.

  The young man seemed to know what to do about everything and how to doit. First of all he called an insurance adjuster on board to inspect thecargo. This, he explained, was necessary so that all insurance claimsmight be adjusted.

  "I'm afraid the flour must be pretty wet," said Phil.

  "Why? is it in bags?" asked the clerk.

  "No, in barrels."

  "You can rest easy, then," said the clerk. "You can't wet flour in abarrel. See there!" and he pointed to a ship that was taking on flournear by. "That's flour for Rio Janeiro, and you observe that the cranesouses every barrel of it into the river before hoisting it to theship's deck."

  "So it does," said one of the boys. "But what is that for?"

  "To make the flour keep in a hot climate," answered the clerk. "Wettingthe barrel closes up all the cracks between the staves, by making athick paste out of the flour that has sifted into them. That makes thebarrel water-tight, insect-tight, and even air-tight."

  "But I should think the water would soak into the flour inside," saidWill.

  "Can't do it. Wouldn't wet an ounce of flour if you left a barrel in theriver for a month. Flour is packed too tight for that."

  "I say, Phil," said Irv. "Let's go back and get those three barrels weleft in the river when we were putting the tarpaulin on."

  "Have you a memorandum of your freight, captain?" asked the clerk. "Ifso, please let me have it, and I'll make out a manifest."

  Phil handed him the little book in which he had catalogued the freightas it was received. Phil had not the slightest idea what a "manifest"might be, but he asked no questions. "I prefer to find out some thingsthrough my eyes," he said to himself. So he watched the clerk, whospread out some broad sheets of paper on the little cabin table andproceeded to make out a formal manifest, or detailed statement of thefreight on board what the manifest called "the good ship _The Last ofthe Flatboats_." It was all arranged in columns, and it showed from whomeach shipment came, and that each was consigned to the house of Mr.Kennedy. Having finished this, the clerk proceeded to make out aduplicate, which he explained was to be sent to the Exchange, so that anaccurate record might be made there for statistical purposes.

  "I see," said Phil. "That is the way statistics are got together,showing how much of every kind of product is shipped into and out ofeach commercial city."

  "Certainly," answered the clerk, "but, excuse me, here come thereporters. Here, boys, make your own manifests," and with that he handedone of his copies to the newspaper men. They scribbled rapidly on paperpads for a brief while and then returned the manifest. Phil wondered,but asked no questions. "What these men wrote is for publication innewspapers, so I'll look in the newspapers to-morrow and see what itis." When he did so, he found under the headline "Manifest," merely acondensed list of the boat's freight with the name of the Kennedycommission house as "consignees." This condensed statement of freightsand consignees is published daily with reference to every boat thatarrives, for the information not only of the consignees, but also ofother merchants and speculators who want to buy, and to that end want toknow who has things to sell.

  The boys were deeply interested, but their studies in commercial methodswere destined to be of brief duration. For the clerk left them almostimmediately. Later in the day he came again and said to Phil:--

  "You're rather in luck, captain. The market for western produce is upto-day. Apples were particularly high."

  "Will they stay up long enough for us to work ours off?" asked Phil.

  "Work yours off?" exclaimed the clerk, in astonishment. "Why, you'vesold out, bag and baggage, flatboat and all, two hours ago. I came downto make delivery. The buyer's clerk will be here immediately."

  It was all astonishing to the western boys, but the clerk wasgood-natured, and explained while he waited for the buyer's clerk. Hetold them how Mr. Kennedy went to a big room called "'change," where allthe other merchants were gathered, showed his manifest, and in fiveminutes had sold out everything.

  "But," said Irv, "nobody has been here to look at the goods. How doesthe buyer know what the things are like?"

  "Why, produce is all classified, and we sell by classes. I lookedover this cargo and reported quality and condition. We made salesaccordingly. When we deliver, the buyer's clerk will look at the things,and if any of them are not up to the grade represented, he'll rejectthem or take them at a reduction, and so on. If we can't agree, thematter will be referred to a committee of 'change, and their decision isfinal. Both sides are bound by it."

  "But what if either refused?"

  "Well--" hesitated the clerk, "that couldn't very well happen; but if itdid, the merchant refusing would have to leave 'change, and go out ofbusiness. You see, all business of this kind is done on 'change, and ifa merchant isn't a member there, he simply can't do any business at all.But pardon me, here comes the buyer's clerk. I must get to work. Oh, bythe way, here's the card of a comfortable, inexpensive hotel; Mr.Kennedy told me to give it to you. He'll call to see you there."

  "But why can't we stay on the boat till her buyer is ready to take heraway?"

  "Oh, he'll do that this afternoon. He'll drop her down to his ownwarehouse, unload her, and by this time to-morrow she'll be nothing buta pile of lumber on shore somewhere."

  "It fairly makes my head swim," said Irv, "to see the way these citypeople go at things."

  "Mine too," said Phil. "But I see clearly that that's the way to getthings done, and it's the way we ought to manage in our study club whenwe get home."

  "But how? We can't have a big 'change and all that sort of thing."

  "I did
n't mean as to details," said Phil. "I referred to the spirit ofthe thing. When these people have anything to do, they do it at onceand with all their might. Then they drop that as something done for, andwithout an instant's delay they turn to something else. That's the waywe must manage."

  "All right," said Will Moreraud. "Now that we're done with the flatboatlet's go at once to the hotel. First thing is to pack baggage."

  So they all set about getting their little belongings together.

  "What about our blankets, and the stove, and the cooking-utensilsand the remains of our food supplies, and our water filter, and thefire extinguishers, and the tools?" asked Constant Thiebaud, inconsternation. "It'll take a day or two to sell them out."

  "Not if we set the right man at it," said Phil. "I'll go and see him."

  So he went to the merchant's clerk, who instantly said:--

  "Pile 'em all out on the levee there, and put a card on top saying, 'Forsale--inquire on board the flatboat.' I'll sell 'em and render you anaccount."

  "All right," said Phil, "but you'll accept your commission, of course?"

  "Of course. Business is business. We never work for our health on thelevee."