The steamer was a big lake barge, with high bow and stern, and a long,
low, cargo deck amidships that was piled squarely and high with yellow
two-inch plank. Her crew had clearly been impressed with the need of
hurry, for long before she could be worked into the wharf they had rigged
the two hoists and got the donkey engines into running order. The captain
stood by the rail on the bridge, smoking a cigar, his hand on the
bell-pull.

"Where do you want it?" he called to Bannon.

"Right here, where I'm standing. You can swing your bow in just below the
bridge there."

The captain pulled the bell, and the snub-nosed craft, stirring up a whirl
of mud from the bottom of the river, was brought alongside the wharf.

"Where are you going to put it?" the captain called.

"Here. We'll clean this up as fast as we can. I want that cribbing all
unloaded tonight, sure."

"That suits me," said the captain. "I don't want to be held up here--ought
to pull out the first thing in the morning."

"All right, you can do it." Bannon turned to Peterson and Vogel (who had
just reached the wharf). "You want to rush this, boys. I'll go over and
see to the piling."

He hurried away, pausing at the office long enough to find the man sent by