"It seems to be a pretty good boat," said Bob.
"Dat's so, Massa Bob."
"It must have slipped its moorings and drifted down the creek during the night. I wish I knew who owned it."
"You an' me own it, Massa Bob. Finding is keeping."
"I am afraid it won't be so in the present case. Probably the owner will appear before long."
"Can't we get off down de river afore he comes, Massa Bob?"
"That wouldn't be honest, Clip."
Clip scratched his head in perplexity. He was not troubled with conscientious scruples, and was not as clear about the rights of property as his young patron. He was accustomed, however, to accept whatever Bob said as correct and final. In fact, he was content to let Bob do his thinking for him.
"What was you goin' to take down de ribber, Massa Bob?" he asked.
"I'll tell you what I was thinking of, Clip. You know we are gathering our crop of grain, and of course it must be sold. Now, traders ask a large commission for taking the wheat to market, and this would be a heavy tax. If I could load it on board this boat, and take it down myself, I should save all that, and I could sell it myself in St. Louis."