“Now, come, I say; that’s too bad. You know I didn’t mean that. Besides, I think I’m as much his heir as you now” (looking at his sinewy arm); “at least, he doesn’t listen as much to you. I mean, the river runs into the gipsies’ country as straight as it can go.”
“Just so.”
“Well, you seem very cool about it!”
“I am not going down the river.”
“Then, where are you going?”
“On the Lake.”
“Whew!” (whistling) “Pooh! Why, the Lake’s—let me see, to Heron Bay it’s quite fifteen miles. You can’t paddle across the land.”
“But I can put the canoe on a cart.”
“Aha! why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I did not wish anyone to know. Don’t say anything.”