“Why, of course,” exclaimed Mrs. Heise, disregarding her husband's vigorous nudges. “I guess we got lunch enough to go round, all right; don't you say so, Mrs. McTeague?”
Thus appealed to, Trina could only concur.
“Why, of course, Cousin Mark,” she said; “of course, come along with us if you want to.”
“Why, you bet I will,” cried Marcus, enthusiastic in an instant. “Say, this is outa sight; it is, for a fact; a picnic—ah, sure—and we'll meet Selina at the station.”
Just as the boat was passing Goat Island, the harness-maker proposed that the men of the party should go down to the bar on the lower deck and shake for the drinks. The idea had an immediate success.
“Have to see you on that,” said Ryer.
“By damn, we'll have a drink! Yes, sir, we will, for a fact.”
“Sure, sure, drinks, that's the word.”
At the bar Heise and Ryer ordered cocktails, Marcus called for a “creme Yvette” in order to astonish the others. The dentist spoke for a glass of beer.
“Say, look here,” suddenly exclaimed Heise as they took their glasses. “Look here, you fellahs,” he had turned to Marcus and the dentist. “You two fellahs have had a grouch at each other for the last year or so; now what's the matter with your shaking hands and calling quits?”