“First,” I proposed, “let us drown our sorrows in a glass of beer.”
“Agreed,” said he.
And we did.
“There’ll be another boat along soon,” observed the boy.
“How soon?” we both asked, eagerly.
“It ought to be here by eleven o’clock; that’s its time.”
“Does it run to Detroit?”
“Yes; it’s a little side-wheeler.”
“Then we’ll watch for it.”
“If you will give me a glass of beer,” said the boy, “I’ll watch for it, and tell you when it comes.”