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and stood there, awash in the hellish glow, peering in at the burning corpse. Finally he turned to face Sour Billy again. "Only him in there," he said. "Thass good fo' you. If it'd been the Cap'n or Jeffers, I was gone break ever' bone in you body befo' I kilt you. Now I'm jest gone kill you right off."

"No," Joshua York said. He stepped in front of the mate again. "Get off my steamer," he said. "You're discharged."

Hairy Mike Dunne shoved him out of the way. "Stay out o' this, Cap'n. Fair fight, jest me an' him. If he whips me, he's mate. Only I'm gone bash his head in, an' then you an' me'll go find Cap'n Marsh and see who leaves this here steamboat."

Sour Billy reached behind him and pulled out his knife.

Joshua York looked from one to the other in despair. The other men had all drawn back now, and were calling out encouragement to Hairy Mike. Kurt moved forward smoothly and pulled York out of the way, to keep him from interfering.

Bathed in the furnace light, Hairy Mike Dunne looked like something straight out of hell, smoke curling up around him, his skin flushed and reddish, the water drying on his hair, his club smacking against his palm as he advanced. He smiled. "I fought boys with knifes befo'," he said, punctuating his words with smacks. "Lots o' dirty lil' boys." Smack. "I been cut befo' too." Smack. "Cuts heal up, Sour Billy." Smack. "Bust heads, thass another thing." Smack. Smack. Smack.

Billy had been steadily retreating, until his back came up hard against a stack of crates. The knife was loose in his hand. Hairy Mike saw him cornered, and grinned, raising the iron billet high over head. He came forward roaring.

And Sour Billy Tipton tossed the knife in his hand, and sent it slicing through the air. It caught Hairy Mike right under his chin, driving up through his whiskers and into his head. He went to his knees and blood came pouring out of his mouth and then he pitched forward onto the deck.

"Well, well," Sour Billy said, sauntering over to the body. He kicked it in the head, and smiled, for the niggers and the foreigners and for Kurt, but mostly for Joshua York. "Well, well," he repeated. "Guess that makes me mate."

Chapter Twenty

St. Louis, September 1857

ABNER Marsh slammed the door behind him when he came stomping into the Pine Street office of the Fevre River Packet Company. "Where is she?" Marsh demanded, striding across the room and leaning on the desk to stare down at the startled agent. A fly buzzed around his head, and Marsh brushed it away impatiently. "I said where is she?"

The agent was a gaunt, dark young man in a striped shirt and a green eyeshade. He was very flustered. "Why," he said, "why, Cap'n Marsh, why it's a pleasure, I never thought, that is, we didn't expect you, no sir, Cap'n, not a bit. Is the Fevre Dream come in, Cap'n?"

Abner Marsh snorted, straightened, and stamped his walking stick on the bare wooden floor in disgust. "Mister Green," he said, "quit your goddamn babblin' and pay attention now. I asked you, where is she? Now, what do you think I was asking about, Mister Green?"

The agent swallowed. "I reckon I don't know, Cap'n."

"The Fevre Dream!" Marsh bellowed, red in the face. "I want to know where she is! She ain't down by the landing, I know that much, I got eyes. And I didn't see her anywhere along the goddamn river. Did she come in and leave again? Did she steam up to St. Paul, or the Missouri? The Ohio? Don't look so damn thunderstruck, just tell me. Where's my goddamn steamer?"

"I don't know, Cap'n," said Green. "I mean, if you didn't bring her in, I got no idea. She's never been in St. Louis, not since you took her down the river back in July. But we heard... we..."

"Yes? What?"

"The fever, sir. We heard yellow fever broke out on the Fevre Dream down to Bayou Sara. Folks were dyin' like flies, we heard, just like flies. Mister Jeffers and you, we heard you had it, too. That's why I never expected... with everyone dyin' and all, we thought they'd burn her, Cap'n. The steamer." He slipped off his eyeshade and scratched his head. "I guess you got over the fever, Cap'n. Glad to hear it. Only... if the Fevre Dream ain't with you, where