“Well, sixteen, then. Come, that’s a shilling too much.”
Bob shook his head, hooked, and took a good-sized smelt off his hook.
“It’s more than I care to give,” said the man, who grew warm as Bob seemed cold. “There, I’ll go another shilling—seventeen.”
Bob still shook his head, and Dexter sat ready to burst out into an explosion of anger and threat if his companion sold the boat.
“Nineteen, then,” said the man. “Nineteen, and my old un as rides the water like a duck. You won’t?”
“No,” said Bob.
“Well, then,” cried the man, “I’m off.”
“All right,” said Bob coolly.
“There, I’ll give you the twenty shillings, but you’ll have to give me sixpence back. Look here! I’ve got the money.”
He showed and rattled the pound’s worth of silver he had.