The Haunted Showboat by Carolyn Keene Page B

trance!”
    “She sure does,” said George.
    Just then Uncle Rufus appeared. As if reading the girls’ thoughts, he explained that when the woman had come to visit him she had been limping. A radiant expression spread over the old man’s face when he added, “Now through prayer she’s cured. We sang an’ we prayed together.”
    In unison the girls said, “We’re glad,” but made no other reference to the woman or the subject of voodooism.
    For several seconds Uncle Rufus stood looking after his “patient,” then he turned to the girls, “I’se ready to take the trip now.”

CHAPTER IX
    The River Princess
     
     
    THE CANOE proceeded along the bayou stream in leisurely fashion. Uncle Rufus paddled evenly but slowly. Now and then he would stop along the edge to point out an herb.
    “Are some of them spices?” Nancy asked.
    Uncle Rufus said a few were, but most of the swamp herbs were used for medicinal purposes.
    Now that the old man had started talking about the bayou, he went on and on, telling about its wild life. “Take spiders,” he said. “They represents the devil on this earth. They pi-son folks, an’ snakes do, too. You got to be mighty careful of ’em.”
    Uncle Rufus said that on the other hand the turtle represented great patience. “Just like God’s patience with man,” he added, smiling. “And a turtle knows enough not to stick its neck out an’ get into other folks’ business.”
    As the girls chuckled, Uncle Rufus suddenly called their attention to a screeching sound. “Know what that is?”
    “Oh, it’s a birdcall, isn’t it?” George asked.
    Uncle Rufus nodded. “Do you know what kind?”
    “A wild duck?” Nancy guessed.
    “No,” Uncle Rufus replied, “but somebody’s sure ’nuff tryin’ to imitate one.”
    “Is it being used as a signal?” Nancy asked.
    “Mebbe so,” Uncle Rufus answered. “But it’s an awful bad imitation. Nobody who knows the bayou would be fooled by that.”
    Just then from the opposite direction came another call, exactly the same as the first. The girls exchanged meaningful glances. Who was imitating a wild duck’s cry? Suddenly Uncle Rufus chuckled and said that a couple of city boys must be playing a game in the bayou.
    Nancy and her friends, although they did not say so aloud, did not come to the same conclusion. It was possible that persons were signaling with some sinister purpose—perhaps to set another trap for the girls!
    Meanwhile, the canoe had already entered the narrow part of the stream. Fifteen minutes later Uncle Rufus sang out:
    “The River Princess is just ahead!”
    He paddled around a bend and the girls found themselves facing a small pond. At the far side of it, against a backdrop of moss-covered oaks, lay the old showboat.
    It was about a hundred feet long, twenty-five feet wide, and had two decks. The craft had listed slightly and its lookout tower had been damaged by a falling tree.
    Uncle Rufus chuckled. “I—I guess the River Princess was plenty proud in her day. Hundreds of gentlefolks used to come to see the shows.”
    Bess gave a great, audible sigh. “I don’t blame Colonel Haver for wanting to restore the River Princess. She’s the most romantic thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
    “And one of the worst wrecks,” George retorted.
    Nancy smiled. “I agree, partly, with both of you. But really I don’t think this showboat is beyond repair. Let’s go aboard and look for ourselves.”
    At that moment hammering started on the craft. Bess involuntarily gave a shudder and Uncle Rufus looked startled.
    Nancy grinned and said quickly, “Don’t worry. Ghosts rarely work in the daytime.” In a louder voice she called, “Anybody home?”
    A moment later a tall young man appeared on the lower deck and walked toward the railing. He was fine-featured and had reddish hair.
    “That must be Charles Bartolome,” Bess said in a low voice. “I’ve seen his picture.”
    “That’s Mr. Bartolome all right,”