But now a new idea had come to Jim, and laying a hand on the collars of the other lads, he brought their heads into whispering nearness of his own:
“Say, fellows, let’s buy Billy! A mule that understands English is the mule to draw the Water Lily!”
A pause, while the notion was considered, then Melvin exclaimed:
“Good enough! If he doesn’t ask too much. Try him!”
“Yes, ask him. I’ll contribute a fiver, myself,” added Gerald.
Ephraim had now struggled over the fence and was pottering about among the melons, with the eye of a connoisseur selecting and laying aside a dozen of the choicest. Those which were not already black of stem he passed by as worthless, as he did those which did not yield a peculiar softness to the pressure of his thumb. His face fairly glittered and his “roomaticals” were wholly forgotten; till his attention was suddenly arrested by the word “money,” spoken by one of the boys beyond the fence. At that he stood up, put his hands on his hips, and groaned; then keenly listened to what was being said.
“Ye-es. I might want to sell Billy, but I cayn’t. I cayn’t never sell anything.”
“Well, we’re looking for a mule, a likely mule. One strong enough to haul a house-boat. Billy’s pretty big; looks as if he could.”
“Billy can do anything he’s asked to. Cayn’t you, Billy?”
It was funny to see the clever beast rise slowly to his feet, shake the dust from his great frame, turn his sorrowful gaze upon his master’s face, and utter his assenting bray.