“Excuse me,” said the bishop, “but in case I should not go away within the time specified, what would be your course?”
In a few brief remarks, inelegant but expressive, the guide outlined his intentions of taking measures which would utterly eliminate the physical energy of the other.
“I haven’t taken no advantage of you,” he said, “I haven’t come down on you when you hadn’t no clothes to go away in; and now that you’ve got good clothes, I don’t want to spile them if I can help it; but they’re not goin’ to save you—mind my words. What I’ve said I’ll stick to.”
“Mr. Matlack,” said the bishop, “I consider that you are entirely correct in all your positions. As to that unfortunate affair of the boat, I had intended coming to you and apologizing most sincerely for my share in it. It was an act of great foolishness, but that does not in the least excuse me. I apologize now, and beg that you will believe that I truly regret having interfered with your arrangements.”
“That won’t do!” exclaimed the guide. “When a man as much as snaps his fingers in my face, it’s no use for him to come and apologize. That’s not what I want.”
“Nevertheless,” said the bishop, “you will pardon me if I insist upon expressing my regrets. I do that for my own sake as well as yours; but we will drop that subject. When you ask me to cut wood to pay for my meals, you are entirely right, and I honor your sound opinion upon this subject. I will cut the wood and earn my meals, but there is one amendment to your plan which I would like to propose. To-morrow is Sunday; for that reason we should endeavor to make the day as quiet and peaceable as possible, and we should avoid everything which may be difficult of explanation or calculated to bring about an unpleasant difference of opinion among other members of the party. Therefore, will you postpone the time at which you will definitely urge my departure until Monday morning?”
“Well,” said Matlack, “now I come to think of it, it might be well not to kick up a row on Sunday, and I will put it off until Monday morning; but mind, there’s no nonsense about me. What I say I mean, and on Monday morning you march of your own accord, or I’ll attend to the matter myself.”
“Very good,” said the bishop; “thank you very much. To-morrow I will consider your invitation to leave this place, and if you will come to Camp Roy about half-past six on Monday morning I will then give you my decision. Will that hour suit you?”
“All right,” said Matlack, “you might as well make it a business matter. It’s going to be business on my side, I’d have you know.”
“Good—very good,” said the bishop, “and now let me get at that wood.”