He had picked out some packages of candies, some calico prints and certain bright ribbons, when the trader grasped the idea. “I see; yer goin' visitin'. Who is it? Must be the Van Trumpers!”
Rolf nodded and now he got some very intelligent guidance. He did not buy Annette's dress, because part of her joy was to be the expedition in person to pick it out; but he stocked up with some gorgeous pieces of jewellery that were ten cents each, and ribbons whose colours were as far beyond expression as were the joys they could create in the backwoods female heart.
Proudly clutching his new rlile, and carrying in his wallet a memorandum of three hundred dollars for their joint credit, Rolf felt himself a person of no little importance. As he was stepping out of the store, the trader said, “Ye didn't run across Jack Hoag agin, did ye?”
“Did we? Hmph!” and Rolf told briefly of their experience with that creature.
“Just like him, just like him; served him right; he was a dirty cuss. But, say; don't you be led into taking your fur out Lyons Falls way. They're a mean lot in there, and it stands to reason I can give you better prices, being a hundred miles nearer New York.”
And that lesson was not forgotten. The nearer New York the better the price; seventy-five dollars at Lyons Falls; one hundred and twenty-five dollars at Warren's; two hundred dollars at New York. Rolf pondered long and the idea was one which grew and bore fruit.
Chapter 51. Back at Van Trumper's
“Nibowaka”—Quonab always said “Nibowaka” when he was impressed with Rolf's astuteness—“What about the canoe and stuff?”
“I think we better leave all here. Callan will lend us a canoe.” So they shouldered the guns, Rolf clung to his, and tramped across the portage, reaching Callan's in less than two hours.