Forcing a way through for himself and Cap'n Cod, Billy Brackett boarded the boat, and went directly to the Captain's room.
The Captain was inclined to be ugly and uncommunicative; but, with a happy thought, Billy Brackett displayed the badge with which Sheriff Riley had provided him.

At sight of it the man at once expressed his readiness to impart all the information they might require.
Yes, he had been in collision with a trading-scow, but there were no lives lost, and the damage had already been satisfactorily settled.

It happened a couple of miles above St.Louis, and the fog was so thick that she was not seen until they were right on her.

She was crossing the channel, and they struck her amidship, sinking her almost instantly.
Her name?
Why, according to this paper, it was the _Whatnot_.

Queer sort of a name, and she looked to be a queer sort of craft.
At this Billy Brackett's face grew very pale, while poor Cap'n Cod sank into a chair and groaned.
"No lives lost, you say?
What then became of the people who were on board that trading-scow ?" "There were only three," answered the Captain; "her owner, a Mr.
Caspar, a deck hand, and the cook, a black fellow.