“A week or so,” replied Uncle Dick, carelessly, and not showing his pride in the performance of the party. “You see, we’ve got double engines and we travel under forced draught, with the stokers stripped to the waist and doing eight shifts a day.”
“Like enough, like enough!” laughed Johnson, not crediting their run. “Well, what kin I do fer ye here?”
“Get our tanks filled. Unpack our boat and store the stuff on your boat so it can’t be stolen. Overrun our engines and oil her up. Clean out the bilge and make her a sweet ship.”
“When?”
“To-day. But we’ll not start until to-morrow morning. I’ve got a few friends to see here, and my Company of Volunteers for Northwestern Discovery will like to look around a little. We’ll stop at a hotel to-night. I’m trusting you to have everything ready for us by nine to-morrow morning.”
“That’s all right,” replied Johnson. “I’ll not fail ye, and I’ll not let anything git losted, neither.”
“I know that,” said Uncle Dick. “By the way, Johnson, which is the best outfitting store in Westport?”
“As which, sir?”
“In Westport, or say Independence. We could walk down there if we had to. Not so far.”
Old Johnson scratched his head. “Go on, Colonel, you’re always havin’ yer joke. I’m sure I don’t know what ye mean by Indypendence, or Westport. But if you want to get uptown, the street cars is four blocks yan. Er maybe ye’d like a taxi?”