the back of it, when the flashes come. Well, it being away in the night and stormy, and all so mysterious-like, I felt just the way any other boy would a felt when I see that wreck laying there so mournful and lonesome in the middle of the river.  I wanted to get aboard of her and slink around a little, and see what there was there.  So I says: “Le's land on her, Jim.” But Jim was dead against it at first.  He says: “I doan' want to go fool'n 'long er no wrack.  We's doin' blame' well, en we better let blame' well alone, as de good book says.  Like as not dey's a watchman on dat wrack.” “Watchman your grandmother,” I says; “there ain't nothing to watch but the texas and the pilot-house; and do you reckon anybody's going to resk his life for a texas and a pilot-house such a night as this, when it's likely to break up and wash off down the river any minute?”  Jim couldn't say nothing to that, so he didn't try. “And besides,” I says, “we might borrow something worth having out of t