Paul rushed into the cabin
where his friend lay helpless and gasping.
"Tom, Tom!" he wailed.
"Ah! Paul, my boy," faintly responded Tom, "I fear I'm about to slip my
cable. I want you lo help me say a few prayers. Just ask the good Lord
not to be hard on me. I've been rough and careless all my life, but I
never meant to be really bad. You talk for me."
The doctor came in and pushed the weeping Paul aside. One half hour
later Tom had quietly floated out to eternity.
No one knew his full name or where his people were, so next day they
buried him, the entire crew attending the funeral, and fervent were
the prayers poured out then and often afterwards by little Paul for the
friend so much beloved and so deeply mourned.
The Captain secured passage for Paul on a Northern bound boat and bought
him many little presents ere wishing him God speed. Among them and
prized most highly, were two red birds and a young alligator. At five
o'clock that evening came the order: "All aboard! Haul in your gang-
planks!" Just then a weird musical chant was struck up by the slaves
working on the levee, which was answered by the boat's crew, as she
backed out into the river and headed away on her long northern trip.
Paul had snug quarters and spent much of his time feeding the red
birds and playing with his alligator.
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