"How d' ye do?" said he, as cheerfully as if he had never gone off with another fellow's boat. "Buying tickets for the Oclawaha?"
I had to say yes, and then he wanted to know when we were going. I wasn't very quick to answer; but the storekeeper said:
"He's just taken the last room but one in the boat that leaves Pilatka to-morrow morning."
"And when do you leave here to catch that boat?" said Mr. Chipperton.
"This afternoon,—and stay all night at Pilatka."
"Oh, father! father!" cried Corny, who had been standing with her eyes and ears wide open, all this time, "let's go! let's go!"
"I believe I will," said Mr. Chipperton,—"I believe I will. You say you have one more room. All right. I'll take it. This will be very pleasant, indeed," said he, turning to me. "It will be quite a party. It's ever so much better to go to such places in a party. We've been thinking of going for some time, and I'm so glad I happened in here now. Good-bye. We'll see you this afternoon at the dépôt."
I didn't say anything about being particularly glad, but just as I left the door Corny ran out after me.
"Do you think it would be any good to take a fishing-line?" she cried.
"Guess you'd better," I shouted back, and then I ran home, laughing.