had changed, the lanky pilot had made some damn fool brag about his three wives within Julian's hearing. Damon Julian had been amused. "Since you won't be seeing the others anymore," Julian had said to Framm later, "you'll have three new wives aboard our steamer. A pilot has his privileges, after all." And now Cynthia, Valerie, and Cara took turns with him, careful not to drink too much all at once, but drinking regular enough. As the only licensed pilot, Framm couldn't be permitted to die, even though York did most of the steering now. Framm wasn't high and mighty anymore, nor troublesome. He hardly talked at all, and he sort of shuffled when he walked, and he had tooth marks and wounds and such all up and down his skinny arms, and a feverish look in his eyes.
Blinking at the approach of Marsh's squatty stern-wheeler, Framm almost seemed to perk up a mite. He even smiled. "Close," he muttered, "you bet she'll come close."
Julian looked at him. "What do you mean, Mister Framm?"
"Nothing a-tall," said Framm, "exceptin' that she's goin' to ram right into you." He grinned. "I bet ol' Cap'n Marsh has that dern boat stacked up to the boiler deck with explosives. It's an old river trick."
Julian flicked his gaze back to the river. The stern-wheeler was bearing straight down on the Fevre Dream, belching fire and smoke like nobody's business.
"He's lyin'," said Sour Billy, "he always lies."
"Look how fast she's coming," Framm said, and it was true. With the current behind her and her paddle churning furiously, the stern-wheeler was coming on like the very devil.
"Mister Framm is right," said Joshua York, and he was turning the huge wheel as he spoke, hand over hand, with smooth swift grace. The Fevre Dream swung her head sharply to the larboard. An instant later, the oncoming stern-wheeler sheered in the other direction, racing away from them. They could read the faded square lettering on her side: ELI REYNOLDS.
"It's a damn trick!" Sour Billy shouted. "He's lettin' them get past us!"
Julian said coldly, "There are no explosives. Put us close to them," and York began turning the wheel back at once, but it was too late; Marsh's boat had seen her chance and lurched forward with surprising speed, steam hissing from her'scape-pipes in tall white plumes. The Fevre Dream responded quickly, her head moving back in line, but already the Eli Reynolds was thirty yards to the starboard and surging past them, away safely, heading downriver. A shot rang out from her as she receded, the report clear even above the thunderous stroke of the Fevre Dreams engines and the noise of her paddles, but no damage was sustained.
Damon Julian turned to Joshua York, ignoring Framm's grin. "You will catch them for me, Joshua. Or I shall have Billy cast your bottles into the river, and you will thirst with the rest of us. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," said York. He called down for a full stop on both wheels, then set the larboard paddle slow forward, the starboard in reverse. The Fevre Dream began to come about again, assisted by the current. The Eli Reynolds was rushing away from her, stern-mounted paddle kicking wildly while sparks and flame poured from her stacks.
"Good," said Damon Julian. He turned to Sour Billy. "Billy, I am going to my cabin." Julian spent a lot of time in his cabin, sitting all alone in the dark without so much as a candle, sipping brandy and staring off at nothing. More and more he was leaving the running of the boat to Billy, just like he had let Billy run the plantation while he sat in his dark dusty library, "Stay here," Julian continued, "and see that our pilot does as I've told him. When we catch that steamer, bring Captain Marsh to me."
"What about the others?" Billy asked uncertainly.
Julian smiled. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he said.
When Julian had gone, Sour Billy turned to watch the river. The Eli Reynolds had sped downriver a good stretch while the Fevre Dream made her turn, and was several hundred yards ahead, but it was plain to see that it wouldn't last long. The Fevre Dream was surging forward like she hadn't done in months, both wheels turning full speed, the furnaces roaring, the decks pounding to the long massive stroke of the engines below. Even as Billy watched, the distance between the two boats seemed to diminish; the Fevre Dream was just eating