“Why not drive out with me?”
“I got some business to transact,” said Peter. “But mebby it might be just as well to wait till I do get there. She's sort of out of her mind, and she might think you had come to do her some harm if I wasn't there.” The business Peter had to transact took him to George Rapp's Livery, Sale and Feed Stable, and by good luck he found George in his stuffy, over-heated office, redolent of tobacco smoke, harness soap and general stable odors. Like all men who brave cold weather at all hours George liked to be well baked when in-doors.
“Well, George,” said Peter, “since I seen you yesterday circumstances has occurred to change my mind about making any trips this year in my boat. For a man of my constitution I've made up my mind it would be just the worst thing to go south at all. It ain't the right air for my lungs, and when you got to talking about chinchillas going out of fashion, I seen it wasn't worth the risk. What I need is cold climate, George, and it's an unfortunate thing this here Mississippi River don't run any way but south, because there's one fur never does go out of style, and that's arctic fox—.”
“All right, I'll give you forty dollars for the boat,” laughed Rapp, putting his hand in his pocket.
“Now, wait!” said Peter. “I don't want you to think I'm doing this just because I want to sell the boat, George. That ain't so. I guess maybe I could raise what money I need to outfit, one way or another, but I can't afford to pay a caretaker to take care of that boat whilst I'm away up in Labrador, or Alaska, or wherever I'm going, and it ain't safe to leave a shanty-boat vacant. Tramps would run away with her.”
“When do you aim to start north?” asked Rapp, grinning.
“My mind ain't quite made up to that,” said Peter. “I want to look over a map and see where Labrador is before I start out. I thought maybe you'd let me remain in the shanty-boat awhile, George.”
“Stay on her as long as you like,” said Rapp. “You can live right in her all winter. All I want is to get her down to my place right away before the river closes, so she'll be there when the ducks fly next spring.”
“Now, that's another thing,” said Peter uneasily. “With all the preparations I have to make for my trip I'll have to be round town more or less this winter, and as your place is a long way down river, I thought maybe you might let the boat stay where she is this winter, George?”
“You can sleep in my barn any time you want to, Peter,” said Rapp. “I might as well let that boat lie where she is forever as leave her there all winter. I want her down there when the ducks fly north. I'll give you five dollars extra for floating her down, and a dollar or so a week for taking care of her, but if she can't go down she ain't any use to me.”