“What kept you so long?” asked Chester.
“I spint the time in making acquaintances, and before I knowed it, night had descinded. I ’spose there’s about two thousand folks in Beartown as they call it, and I know ’em all excipt two or three, the same being out of town.”
“It is so late,” said the Captain, “that we have decided to stay here overnight—that is, if we can get lodgings.”
“Arrah, now, that’s a sinsible remark which I ixpicted ye to make, as Arty Devitt said whin he admitted he was the biggest fool in Cork. But there ain’t a hotel in Beartown.”
“Then we shall have to go back to the boat and either start down the river or bunk in as best we can.”
“Nothing of the kind; supper is waiting and ye’re expicted. The house has only one bed, which av coorse is fur me, while ye two will have to make shift in the adj’ining woodshed. Come on and I’ll show ye.”
“Be sensible for once in your life,” said Alvin, “and explain matters.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” asked Mike, as he turned about and the three walked toward the sleepy little town.
“I’ve made frinds wid the postmaster, which is a fine old lady with a swaat darter. She has spread supper for us three, and whin I told her we’d honor her by staying overnight, she was that pleased she danced the Highland Fling and kicked over a barrel of apples. And what do ye think, byes, after we’d talked awhile, we found we was relatives. What have ye to say to that?”