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for no one else knew I had the money. Tom was working on a steamboat towing vessels up the river, and, as it happened to be in town, I went down to the captain and asked him if Tom had given him any money to take care of. He answered yes, and among it a fifty dollar bill. I told him now that Tom had taken it from me and asked him not to let Tom have it 'til I had spoken to him about it. I went to Tom, and he immediately confessed, and excused himself saying that as I had been away for three days, nobody knew where, he took it for granted somebody had murdered me, and thought he might as well have my money as let my host keep it.
I did not want to get him in trouble, so I just asked him to go with me to the captain	and him to	pay me the fifty dollars.	He did that, and the captain
promised to	pay me the	next	time he came to town,	as he did not have the money
with him. He owed Tom three dollars and he did not have it, so I offered to pay it and	he should	then	settle with me. He	promised. To save Tom the
humiliation	of going to	the	boarding house, where	everybody knew he had stolen,
I paid his landlord and brought his clothes, and saw him hire on a ship directed to the Mediterranean.
I did not see him until after a year's time, when I often visited him in his home in Baltimore, but neither of us ever mentioned the money. I thought of course the money was safe, but when I again saw the captain and would have it he would not let it go without an order from Tom, which was impossible to get, as he had already gone. I entered suit against the captain, but, as I did not have time to stay in New Orleans to see it settled, I had to leave it with my landlord. He got the money all right, but, after the lawyer had his fee, there was not much left for me. I was advised to see him, but was afraid I would lose still more.
I had now taken hire on a little schooner of about thirty tons which sailed on Lake Ponchartrain to Pearlington, where it belonged. The owner ran it himself but he was no sailor, so we two men of the crew were soon leaders.
Pearlington	lies	about seventy English	miles from New	Orleans,	eight
miles	up Pearl river	which flows	into Lake	Borgne and is	connected	with
Ponchartrain by a small sound. As far up the river as Pearlington the banks are low, without woods, and overgrown with tall grass or reeds ten to twelve feet high. Lots of deer and cattle live here.
In the spring fire is put to the grass and it is a very beautiful sight in the night to see the dry marsh burn. The vegetation is so strong that in a few days' time it is again covered with young grass. Above the town the country is still very flat, but thickly grown with woods.
Strange	about	this	river are the	so-called "bayous", small streams with
quiet waters	which	are	connected with	the river. They are no wider at the
mouth	than at the	source; are often	three or	four miles long,	and very	deep.
There	are a great	many	of them, and	it is a great pleasure to row up them and
shoot squirrels. They run right up into the woods. In the spring when the water is high you can row around in the woods in many places.
Pearlington is a small, insignificant town. The only trade is in wood and cotton with New Orleans. There is no church so there is service only twice a year when a Methodist preacher comes from another town and holds services for three or four	days.	The	town is situated on the north side of the river in the
midst of a	large	pine	forest owned	mostly by the government. Although
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