"I'll give you forty dollars for the dog," said the muddy man sulkily to the Boy.
"No."
"Give you fifty, and that's my last word."
"I ain't sellin' dogs."
He cursed, and offered five dollars more.
"Can't you see I mean it? I'm goin' to keep that dog—awhile."
"S'pose you think you'll make a good thing o' hirin' him out?"
He hadn't thought of it, but he said: "Why not? Best dog in the Yukon."
"Well, how much?"
"How much'll you give?"