But, despite the old man's apparent decrepitude, he stepped down the steep and rather rickety ladder, at the foot of which lay a dory, with the agility of a youth. His companion declared that he would remain on the dock.
Guessing that he didn't want to leave the bag, of which he seemed so careful, Lem hailed him.
"Come on and bring your grip, ef ye scared o' leavin' it," he said.
But the other shook his head, and Lem pulled out toward his launch with only the old man as passenger. The launch was a black, rakish-looking craft, and once on board the old man expressed approval of the powerful, two-cylindered engine with which she was equipped.
"Say, you do know suthin' about ingines, don't yer?" admired Lem, after a few sharp questions had shown him that the queer old man really knew what he was talking about.
A muttered grunt was the only reply. The old man was spinning the fly-wheel over, after making a few adjustments of the gasoline and spark supply. A moment later the motor was sputtering and coughing, and the launch was struggling at her moorings.
Lem cast off and ran the craft about the harbor for a while. At the conclusion of the test he was satisfied that the old man actually did understand the workings of gasoline motors. Returning to the wharf, it only remained for a bargain to be struck, and this was speedily done. But Lem still held out for something more.
"Seein' as I don't know you an' you're takin' ther boat out alone, I ought ter hev a deposit or suthin'," he declared, his eyes narrowing.
"What's your boat worth?" demanded the old man.
"Wa'al, I paid a thousand fer her," rejoined Lem, who had only doubled the actual sum the launch cost him.