"Why do you say that?" asked Roosevelt, thoroughly interested in this strange creature.
"Why, I've an idea you are some brewer's son who's made a lot of money. You look as if you'd been raised on beer."
Roosevelt roared with delight. "I want to make a contract with you," he said. "I will give you twenty-five dollars for everything that you show me in the way of game."
"I don't want it," said Willis gruffly.
"Then I will buy the grub."
"All the grub I'll take along won't amount to more than three or four dollars—a hundred pounds of flour, twenty-five pounds of bacon, dried apples, and black tea. That's all you'll get."
"By George," cried Roosevelt, "that's fine!"
"You can't stand a trip like this," Willis remarked with deadly frankness.
"You take me on the trip and I'll show you. I can train myself to walk as far as you can."
Willis doubted it and said so.