# River Laughter/Chapter 8
### CHAPTER VIII
#### “GOOD OLD KEKO—HA-HA-HA-HA-A! POOR OLD PONY BOY!”

COLUMBIANA parted from James Caroost for appearances’ sake, with regret. It was bad enough to be caught with him and taken to Mendova on the charge of burglary, and, no doubt, her escape with him—and even handcuffed to him—would make an awful lot of talk down the Mississippi River, where everybody does talk so much—often not having anything else to do for days and weeks at a time but talk.
But she knew people wouldn’t think so much of it if she quit him at the first opportunity. At the same time, when she had sent him away he had gone under protest until she told him frankly that it wasn’t proper for her to go wandering down the Mississippi all alone with a man, even with him. Then he had suggested—
“But—but we could—why, Columbiana, we could get married!”
The idea was such a shock and had come so suddenly that she had flared up angrily at him and told him what was what.
“What gave you the idea you had a right, or even permission, to propose to me—any such thing as that?” she had demanded, and she had said to him more than that with indignant, thoughtless tongue, asking, “Where could we go to get married? You know, if we went anywhere, they’d arrest us. You expected me to say yes—and then—and then you’d thought of that—and—and——”
Caroost had been abashed, humbled and rendered speechless. She knew he hadn’t thought anything of the kind, but she had said it the way she was always saying things to men who had pretended they liked her—but she knew there was no pretense about Caroost. He wasn’t much, yet, but she knew that she could have made quite a man of him; he had developed so fast in so short a time and had been so respectful and all that.
Sifting in her skiff with her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee, she knew that she had really been angry not at him but at the condition of affairs which prohibited her going with the man she really wanted to marry, because he was wanted and she was wanted for burglary. And justices of peace or mayors or anybody doing marrying, not to mention clerks making out licenses, would have grabbed them and yelled for the police. Any Up-the-Banker would sell his soul for one hundred dollars, let alone the five thousand dollars reward for their arrest, which they had heard about at Thirty-Seven.
Columbiana Muscatine O’Bine was more indignant, less resourceful and sorrier than she had ever been since she left her father’s store-boat up on the Ohio to live on her inheritance from her grandmother on her mother’s side. She knew now that she had been waiting nine years, since she was sixteen, for this young man—and now she couldn’t be his wife, because they’d both be arrested and sent to jail for years and years. She looked with asperity around her at the Mississippi; she hated it, but it was the life for her, especially now when she had to go in the night and do her shopping where she wasn’t known.
She dropped down to Memphis, two days later, and landed in Ash Slough, where she had some friends who would treat her right, Mrs. Haney, for example, if she were there—and she was. Mrs. Haney said it was lucky Columbiana never had had any use for Memphis, and, if she would put on some other clothes, longer skirts and so on, no policeman up-town would ever recognize her. The newspapers said that Columbiana’s boat was up at Mendova, waiting to be claimed, and if it wasn’t claimed soon somebody would buy it and the money would be put in the hospital and police-pension funds.
Columbiana and Mrs. Haney went up-town, and the girl bought some clothes, which she needed. Then they went to the moving-picture second show and had a real good time together. They had such a good time, that Columbiana determined to spend several evenings up-town, trying to forget in the turmoil and excitement of town the disappointment of her life and the necessity that had occasioned it.
She even went up-town the next morning about nine o’clock, wearing a veil, a dark blue skirt, a white shirtwaist and a blue jacket so that she wouldn’t attract attention and look like the brown-suited, tailor-made girl advertised by the Mendova chief.
She strolled along North Main Street, down-town, to the business section, and she saw ahead of her a crowd of people which was increasing. In the lead of the crowd she saw and soon recognized several old river-acquaintances of hers. There were Red Tip and Rooter and Sunflower. They were linked arm in arm, and their wrists were handcuffed each to each. On their faces was a look of intense and disgusted disappointment and surprize. Behind them stalked, of all men, James M. Caroost.
Caroost had a tall, broad policeman beside him, a man of the name of Haddam, who gained the applause of hosts because he just naturally killed up “Wild River Bill,” who had grown proud as he grew wild. Haddam kept his eye on Caroost, who was the only one loose of the river-men in the group.
Columbiana choked down a sob. They had caught Caroost. She followed around to police headquarters, saw the fated four enter the Gates of Hades, and then she faded. She hurried to Ash Slough and wept in the pillows of Mrs. Haney’s fourteen-dollar-and-ninety-cent brass bed stead, which she bought in St. Louis the time she fitted out the little blue poplar-boat with the asphalt cementing.
“I’ll go up-town and find out if there’s anything anybody can do,” Mrs. Haney said, and right after dinner she went up town.
She was gone three hours, and she returned with the first and second editions of the Battle-Ax.
“Well, I declare!” she cried to Columbiana, showing her the seven-column headings. “Look’t!”
Columbiana, drying her tears, read:
Sportsman Wins the Mendova $5,000 Reward, and Clears His Own Good Name of False Charges due to Suspicious Circumstances; Anxious Only To Find Columbiana Muscatine O’Bine, Fellow Victim of Circumstantial Evidence and Heroine of Sensational Escape in Chief Clumb’s Motor-Boat Patrol.
Columbiana read, rising to her feet as the news startled her to surprize and excited delight.
“Now look’t!” Mrs. Haney cried triumphantly.
Columbiana turned to the second edition of the Battle-Ax and saw the special, extra important news, enclosed in a “box.”
TAKES OUT A MARRIAGE LICENSE!
She read with bewildered doubt. Just then the cabin-boat door opened, and Mrs. Haney stepped to one side to avoid the rush.
“Oh, it’s all right, Columbiana!” a deep voice exclaimed. “I fixed it. We’re all clear, and anybody’ll marry us and never say a word——”
Columbiana’s lips parted and fire appeared in her eyes, but just then she remembered how a few hasty words and a tart remark had disturbed the Ohio River soft-paw—as regards some things—and sent him away into the dark river-night when she didn’t mean anything at all. Accordingly, she curbed her tongue and turned her lips to the stalwart who had come to claim her—now that they were no longer fugitives from justice.
THE early Autumn night was at hand. The cabin of the shanty-boat had been too small and close for the exuberant feelings of the two. They went out into the open, where the dark river was rolling by and the city lights were flaring on to make a yellow glow in the gloom.
They were speechless—and at that moment the silence was broken by a long-drawn laugh. Caroost started and Columbiana uttered a low exclamation. Just down below the mouth of Wolf River some one was going by. He was crying out clearly audible phrases:
“Good old Keko—ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-a! Poor Old Pony Boy!”
“Why—that’s—that’s our yell! I went to Keko College!” Caroost cried. “Poor Old Pony Boy—that’s the man I’ve come down the river to find—my old professor in mathematics—I had about given him up! Excuse me a little while!”
He scurried away. He was gone but an hour. In the interval he raced to the river-police wharf-boat, and with a lieutenant and the engineer he overtook the mad skiffman whose laughter had thrilled the river-people and established a tradition.
“Poor Old Pony Boy!” Caroost explained to Columbiana on his return, when he found her inclined to resent his hasty departure. “Overwork and underpay got him going. Now he’ll be taken care of back home, and you and I’ll finish this trip to N’Orleans together, eh girl?”
“Well, probably!” she admitted.