“Well,” he said, “what do you say? Think I shall do you a mischief?”
“Yah! Not you,” said Esau. “I’m not afraid of you. Here, let’s get our things from that other place.”
“Let’s have the landlady in first,” said Gunson, smiling; and he went to the door and called.
A pleasant-looking German woman came, and in the most broken up English I ever heard, said we could come at once, but got into a muddle over terms till Gunson joined in, and spoke to her in German, when the difficulty was at an end.
“Nice bright-looking place, and plenty of sunshine,” said Gunson, as he led us down to a wharf where a schooner was being laden with barrels, while a red-nosed, copper-complexioned man looked on smoking a cigar.
“Here, skipper, two more passengers for you—friends of mine; will you have them?”
The captain looked us both over, and then nodded.
“How much?”
The captain looked at us again, and then said a certain number of dollars for the two—a price which astonished us.
“I’ll say right for them,” said Gunson. “They’ll send their chests on board.”