Waking up in a soft bed is a wonderful thing, even just three nights of sleeping in the dirt was enough to make any grown man grumpy. Amos was sent to bring hot water to Timmons and me, and to see to our morning needs. To awaken clean and have a fresh shave first thing in the morning was a refreshing change. I knew I owed Michelle a trip down here at some point this summer. Right now, we had to focus on moving cargo, so whatever we did in line with trips to St. Louis would have to wait.

We took breakfast in the hotel restaurant while Amos ate at a community table in the slave section. He said the cooks fed him well and he felt like he was going to burst. We were basically finished with St. Charles for this portion of the trip, but we’d both pass through here on many future journeys. We made sure to tip well and treat everyone with utmost respect. I was sure we'd leave a good impression.

Once we got underway again, the three of us quickly stripped and put our work clothes back on. Thankfully they had been laundered yesterday and hung to dry overnight. Our street clothes were carefully stowed; we wouldn’t change back to them until we approached St. Louis later today. Everyone on the boat looked a little more refreshed than usual and everyone seemed a little more prepared when we hit the confluence of the two mighty rivers, where they joined together.

The problem arises because each river has its own volume, velocity, and temperature. The temperature and velocity are the key problems. Injecting a stream of colder water from the Missouri into the warmer Mississippi creates turbulence, and turbulence creates underwater snags that could rip a boat open in the blink of an eye. The surface turbulence wasn’t steadily in one place. It had a habit of popping up to surprise anyone passing through. Thank you, thermal and fluid dynamics. It was easy to be tossed from one of these lightweight wooden boats and it was usually a death sentence for anyone unprepared.

All hands were ready as the current thrust us into the confluence. Every single boatman was equipped with a push pole and on the lookout for surface and submerged flotsam. Both Timmons and Patrick manned the rudder and the sail had been furled. The bank channel was full of boats being pulled upstream so we had little choice but to brave the current and hope to keep our speed.

It was a rough couple of moments with lots of activity by the boatsmen. I and the two other land-lubbers just sat down, held on, and stayed out of the way. The rough ride didn’t bother Amos or me much, but Jeb was absolutely green and ready to hurl. We slid back into calm sailing just in time; Jeb managed to get his stomach under control eventually, though it was clear he could never be a shipwright. With that out of the way, Amos, Timmons, and I changed back into our street clothes and prepared to do business in the town of St. Louis.

So there we were, three decently dressed guys and one workaday bum striding up the St. Louis pier. Jeb was in desperate need of a bath and change of clothes. We started with the nearest clothier and purchased him a simple pair of street trousers and a nice clean shirt. We managed to find a barbershop which happened to offer baths as well. We installed Jeb there and went looking for the immigrant town tailor. Hopefully, I could get everyone served at the immigrant shop and I wouldn’t need to bounce back and forth between town districts.

We got lucky. There was a new tailor working out of his house. He was a recent refugee from Belgium. He agreed to make suits for Timmons and, most importantly, for Amos. Amos was a problem because he was just entering his growth years. Besides the suit he needed now, I ordered two more of larger sizes. Anything Amos outgrew would be passed down to the next kid. The tailor also knew about a nearby shoemaker who was looking for business. The 1819 Panic had put a hurtin' on small shops and these guys were prime examples. In the end, I ordered a suit for myself, as well. He seemed to have a stock of fine cloth and it wouldn’t hurt for me to have an additional suit.

We visited the shoemaker and I went a step further. I recruited him to Rulo. We desperately needed a good shoemaker with all those kids running around and more on the way. I gave him our order up front before I made the offer. His wife was there to hear my sales pitch; the poor guy never stood a chance. They were Italian of some sort and she decided that they were moving to Rulo. I asked him to come by the hotel later so I could explain the details to him over a gentleman’s supper. This one might be fun. His wife was high-spirited, to say the least.

With all of that in order, we went to find Jeb and secure accommodations. There was one established hotel in town and it wasn’t much to look at. It was the Planters House Hotel and it was little more than a converted frame house with a newly added wing. Pretty typical for the edge of civilization and it didn’t at all surprise me. We were able to secure three rooms in the new wing, but they weren’t much to brag about.

I started thinking seriously about buying a house here in town for our use while traveling. I knew about the future of both St. Louis and St. Charles; either way it would be a good investment. Maybe I’d do both. I knew that old town St. Charles would be around forever and that might be a good place to build a historic home. St. Louis’s growth would turn industrial and anything built right now would be gone in a decade or so. I decided to discuss it with Timmons and Jeb over dinner. We’d be hosting the shoemaker and he might have some insight.

When Signor shoemaker arrived, we left to find a decent restaurant. There would be plenty of discussion to be had there.