Man and dog sat looking at me.
“We can do anything,” he went on. “Bring us a pig's tail an' we'll make a whistle of it; bring us a ton of iron an' we'll build a steam-engine. I put in the skill an' labor, an' Mr. Barker furnishes the company. Got to have that in every kind o' business.”
I made no answer, but sat looking at this wonderful man.
“Where ye goin'?” he asked.
“Down the river.”
“So'm I,” said he. “Give me the stern seat an' I'll furnish the power. If you're goin' to be sorry for me, you'll have enough to do.”
I swung her stem to the shore and let them in. He took the paddle, and the dog a place between us.
“Handsome little river—this here,” said my new friend, as he cut the ripples with a powerful stroke. “Think o' the strength of her,” he went on presently; “she keeps a-pushin' night an' day. The power of a thousand horses couldn't hold her for a second. If she only had brains she could do half the work o' the county.” After a moment's silence, he added: “If somebody would go into partnership with her and put up brains against her strength, the firm would do wonders.”
That view of the river was new to me.
“Did you ever see Niagara Falls?” the stranger asked.